Welcome to the Winchester Family Business
by CynthiaRavenswing
Summary: Alexandra Ballard is drafted by the angels, who are presiding as stewards over heaven, to help out the Winchester brothers. What could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: My computer, to quote a certain Trickster/Archangel, is "a great big bag of dicks". I apologize for any inconvenience and chaos I caused on Instagram. I will be sticking with this account, as it has decided to not be an assbutt.

I do not own any aspect of Supernatural. Not it's characters, not it's story line, or any of it. The only thing I own in THIS story, is my character, Alexandra Ballard. I hope you guys enjoy the story.

Introduction:

Alexandra Ballard (or Alex, as she was often called) stood on he balcony outside her apartment door and stared out at the city. A church in the distance was the point that her eyes were fixed on; it's brick building displayed three white crosses. The two smaller ones flanked the larger one, symbolizing Jesus Christ and the two men who were crucified with him that day. If it had not been for Him, there would be no hope or salvation for humanity. No happy ending. The church, she knew, was calling her. Perhaps not the church itself, but certainly something inside it. She could feel it straight down to her bones, like a hum or the pull of a magnet on metal shavings.

"I have to go there..." Alex whispered to no one in particular as she snuffed out her cigarette and walked back inside.

The angel knew she was coming. He stood quietly, staring up at the cross hung before him. He had been warned about his wavering thoughts and had blatantly disobeyed before. Not out of anger, but perhaps out of doubt. He had suffered greatly for those actions. He'd lost many comrades and failed many friends. He had failed himself, as well. The angel looked up, still hoping for the chance to prove he had faith. Worry and doubt plagued him and it made his heart horribly hollow feeling.

Maybe, he thought, this is a chance to make up for those actions.

Chapter One

"Well, here I am..." I push my bangs out of my eyes and stare at the massive wooden doors before me, absentmindedly running my finger tips over the cold, brass handles. Anticipation charges through my blood and mind, though I'm not sure why. "Guess it's time for me to find out why."

I pull the doors open and step inside. The church is empty, save one man clad in a tan trench coat and black pants at the forefront of the red velvet upholstered pews. Along the stone walls candles in wrought iron sconces are lit, flickering gently between beautiful stained glass windows that depict crosses, angels and various biblical figures. My Converse clad feet pad quietly along the crimson red carpet and stop a few feet away from the stranger beneath the cross.

"Hello." I stick my hands in my pockets and rock on my heels. The man doesn't stir. "I get the feeling you might be here for the same reason that I am. Am I right?" I stare anxiously at the cross that he's standing underneath and wait. After a few moments of silence, I frown and turn for the door, feeling irritated and defeated. _I'm a moron,_ I think to myself as I walk.

"What reason do you think that is?" A gravelly voice stops me and I turn to face the speaker.

The man before me is rather attractive and a blush creeps up my cheeks. The contrast between his dark brown hair and impossibly dark blue eyes is striking. He has a clean shaven face and his lips are a perfect pink cupid's bow.

"Truth is, I don't really know." My arms cross over my chest and I fix my attention on the cross hanging above us, tracing the edges with my eyes. "I just felt like I needed to be here, you know? I've walked past this church so many times and I see it every day, but today I felt like I had to come here. Even if I wanted to fight the pull, there's no way I could have succeeded. It's like fate brought me here." When I look over at the man, I find him staring at me with an expression of intense attentionand I shift in discomfort. "Guess that's pretty strange, hm?" I don't usually open up to people like this, I realize with an uncomfortable expression.

He shakes his head. "No. You were called here for a purpose." Those dark blue eyes settle on me heavily. "Alex."

Instantly, my face contorts into an expression of disturbed confusion. "How do you know my name?"

"I have known your name since you were born. My name is Castiel, and I am an angel of the Lord. You were brought here to serve a greater purpose." The answer causes me to raise my eyebrows in surprise and shake my head in disbelief.

A slow whistle sounds from my lips. "A guardian angel, huh?" I squint up at the rafters, trying to decide whether or not to feel amused, worried or something other than those two emotions. "Are you serious?"

"I am always serious." I notice that his sentences sound faintly spliced together. Like this isn't his primary language, I think to myself.

"I gathered that. You're not very up to date on humor and all, are you?"

"So I've been told." He rolls his eyes and gives an irritated huff.

I perk up slightly and stare at him with an amused smile. "Seriously? By who? Because I don't imagine too many people wouldn't just look at you and call you a crack pot if you told them what you told me."

"Dean Winchester accused me in lacking in humor as well. However, I have made progress in that department, I believe." He makes a face that reminds me of nothing other than a determined child. "I can't really tell."

He says nothing for a few moments and I find myself wondering what a normal person would do with the past few minutes. Probably laugh and call this guy crazy, walk away and go back home. Maybe some one would indulge his delusions for a few minutes and then give some patronizing response before leaving. Some people might just walk out to their cars, scoffed and then went back home to crack open a beer and watch some football. A sigh slips through my nose and I roll my eyes.

I'm not a normal person, I guess, because I feel an inexplicable, ineffable belief of his statement. "Suppose I believe you. Then why did I come here..." My teeth sink into my lower lip nervously. "Sorry, what was your name again?" I'm not sure if it's offensive to forget a name, but it sure feels like it right now. Forgetting an angel's name just feels wrong.

"_Castiel_." The handsome angel lowers his head slightly in acknowledgment. "My name is Castiel."

"Castiel." I repeat after him and my heart flutters slightly, as it often does when I'm anxious or pumped full of adrenaline, causing me to wring my hands and wince. "Would it be horribly inappropriate for me to ask for proof that you're an angel?"

"I assumed that would be a question you ask. It is expected."

He takes a slow, deep breath and closes his eyes. In that instant, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stands up from the energy in the air. My head snaps towards the candles as they alternate between burning and not burning at all, bright and dark, then up to the electric lights- which are shattering overhead. I yelp and yank my hood over my head, just in time to witness the shadows of two massive wings cover the walls of the church. Light bulbs crash and explode on the ground.

"Okay. Okay," I yelp, and, as quickly as the display begins, it stops. "I can't dispute the evidence." I swallow nervously and hold out my hand. The angel looks at me with an ever-so-slightly amused smile. "Nice to meet you, Castiel."

The angel frowns at me and his head twitches to the side like a confused puppy. I reach down and take his hand, giving it a firm shake before releasing it and sitting down in a pew. "This is so surreal." I run my hands through my hair and Castiel sits next to me.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for a human," I chuckle and shake my head as I stare at my hands. "finding out I have a hot guardian angel is like something from a fairy tale or a movie. I'm not sure how to react."

"My vessel's body temperature is normal." Castiel's reply makes me laugh and I shake my head at him.

"It's slang, Castiel. I mean that you're attractive."

His dark eyes flit around for a moment as though gauging whether or not I'm being sarcastic before frowning at his body. "This is not my natural form."

I roll my eyes. "Nonetheless, it's the _**you **_that I'm interacting with now, and I think it's attractive."

"Thank you." He says and stands up, cocking his head to the side at me. "You wanted to know why I brought you here, correct?"

I jump up after him and bounce on my toes nervously. "Yes. Yes, I did."

"Very well. I'll explain, but," He cranes his neck to look down around the church. "let's continue this conversation in a less public area." In an impossibly fast movement, he presses two fingers to my forehead and I find myself back in my living room.

"Woah!" I stumble and catch myself on my sofa. "That's awesome! How did you do that?!" I'm fairly certain my eyes are the size of saucers.

The angel rolls his eyes in exasperation and sits down next to me. "Dean Winchester calls it 'angel mojo'. Angels have powers far beyond that of humans, but we have limitations as well. We can travel faster than humans can comprehend, but, it isn't actually instantaneous." He appears near my window and shuts the blinds, nodding to me. I take the hint and turn on my chandelier light.

"Whatever you want to call it," I stand up and hang my coat up before I walk off to the kitchen. "that was awesome. I can't argue with evidence." I reach up to my cupboard and grab a wine glass. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No." His reply is harsh and short. "Thank you." The sentence tacked on is quiet and I smile.

I pour some red wine into my glass and bring the bottle with me, settle into the recliner across from Castiel and kick off my shoes. "So... What's my purpose?"

"It's not quite simple enough for me to explain as casually as your inquiry." He laces his fingers together on his lap and shifts uncomfortably. "You're special. For some reason or another, God has seen fit for you to assist the Winchesters in their endeavors."

"God?"

"Yes. God, the Heavenly Father, the Lord and Creator." Castiel shifts on the sofa and pins me with a serious expression.

My incredulity is evident, I'm sure as I take a sip of my wine. "You talk to God and he just happened to mention me?"

"Not exactly. You were brought to the church where I was by a feeling he gave you." The angel sits stiffly on the sofa and stares at me intently. "I was told by those who are higher up than I that you are to play a part in the Winchester's stories, however."

"I can accept that." The statement brings me an odd sense of calm. "But, what is my part to be, Castiel?"

"Essentially, you're going to become a demon hunter and assistant to Sam and Dean Winchester." A frown furrows his brow and he shakes his head. "They often need help and cannot find any. I believe that you are supposed to help them."

I cough and interrupt him. "Demon hunter?"

"Yes." He confirms it for me and I stare at him blankly.

"As in demons. _Real demons?"_ My inquiry doesn't feel real coming from my mouth, but, then again, I think... There's an angel of the Lord on my couch.

"Yes. Demons, ghosts, crocattas, wraiths, tulpas..." He rattles off a list of creatures, most of which I've never even heard of, before pausing and staring at me in perplexity. "You don't believe me?"

I shake my head adamantly. "I didn't say I don't believe you, but I will say that this is insane." I look down at my wine and finish it in silence. "This kind of thing just doesn't happen to normal people. I feel like..." A pause silences me momentarily and I try to draw a mental comparison. The closest thing in my mind is a story book hero. "A hero in a story who just had a major quest thrown at her." I swallow a large gulp of wine.

"Is it really that unbelievable?" Castiel's perplexity is evident in his face. "After all, you believe that I'm an angel."

"Right, but," I pour more wine in my glass before continuing. "you have to consider the fact that I have _evidence _of that fact. I mean, with the whole wings and flashing lights debacle back in the church, it's kind of undeniable."

"When Sam and Dean Winchester arrive, I will give you proof of the existence of demon hunting as well."

I don't know how I'm supposed to get proof of the existence of demon hunters, unless they have some kind of ID cards or badges. Let alone demons, but, I set those facts aside for the moment in my mind. "Ummm..." I shove my bangs off my face and give Castiel an acerbic expression. "Castiel, what do you mean _when Sam and Dean Winchester __**arrive**_? Are they coming here?"

The angel nods. "Yes. They should be here in about three hours."

With a deep sigh I cradle my head in my hands.

"Is that okay?"

"Yes, Castiel. It's fine." I mumble into my hands, not bothering to look up at him.

Silence follows for a few minutes and I don't move.

"Are _you_ okay?" The angel asks me.

Am I okay? I repeat his question in my head. No. Not by a long shot. My existence has been thrown into potential danger and chaos by an _angel from __**God. **_Who can say they're okay after that? I smile with no emotion and look up. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine." His deep blue eyes are shadowed by concern as they meet mine. I didn't even realize he had moved, but he kneels in front of me and I'm suddenly aware of the fact that I'm exceptionally warm. "Actually," Castiel stares at me with a look of disapproval. "your pupils are dilated and your cheeks are flushed. Perhaps you shouldn't have any more alcohol."

Reflexively swallowing hard against the tightness in my throat, I find myself hoping he is naive enough to not notice that he's making me horribly nervous.

"It's almost eleven..." I hurriedly change the subject by looking down at my phone. "Come on, you can help me set up my guest room."

"I don't sleep." Castiel remarks as he rises and steps back from me. With a heartbeat that is too rapid for my tastes, I start off towards my guest bedroom.

"Yeah, I get that. But," I wave a hand for him to follow me. "your friends will most likely be exhausted. It's only fair that they get a decent room to sleep in." I pull the door open and throw a wide arm out at the room. "You see? Nice bedroom."

Castiel's expression is one of pleasant surprise and he bobs his head in agreement.

"I just wish I had more answers." I state as I open my closet and remove spare bedding I keep on hand. Castiel takes several pillows and blankets before walking over to the bed and making it up.

I open up the sofa bed and spread a sheet on it, trying to postulate some answers in my head. By the time that the bed is made, I find myself still devoid of answers.

"I guess I should probably get to bed here soon myself." My skin feels warm and tingly from the two glasses of wine I've had tonight. "Castiel?" My fingers knot themselves together in front of me and look over at the angel who is plumping pillows. "I don't understand. Why me?"

He squeezes a pillow tightly in the dim room and sets it on the bed before crossing over to stand in front of me. "You'll understand later." Those beautiful blue eyes give me a stern expression and he presses his fingers to my head, wrapping an arm around my waist. "Just go to sleep for now."

"Dammit..." The word slips out in a whisper as my head lolls.

(Castiel's POV)

"She's sleeping off a sleeping spell. She reacted quite well to the news." My voice is hushed as I look over my shoulder at her bedroom door.

"What do you mean?" Dean Winchester's rough voice comes through the cell phone in disbelief. "Cass, _please _tell me you didn't just throw the truth at her?"

I frown at the glowing screen. "I didn't _throw _the truth at her. I spoke it."

"Geez, Cass... Alright. Well, she's sleeping, right? Because we're going to be there in about an hour and a half."

"Yes."

"Alright. See you then."

Dean hangs up and I slip into Alex's room and sigh as I look down at her sleeping form. She's so peaceful now, curled up under the blanket. I hesitantly reach down and brush a piece of her hair away from her face. She doesn't stir from her sleep and I sigh, kneeling down next to her cautiously.

"I'm sorry that you're getting dragged into this, Alex. Truly, I am. But, I believe you can help them. And, I believe that you'll be a great hunter." A pang of some emotion I don't recognize makes my chest tighten. "I promise I'll keep you safe... Just as I have since Killian and Marie died. Your parents were good people, and they're proud of you. I won't let anything happen to you."

I rise and head towards the door.

"Whatever it takes."

I groan and roll out of bed gracelessly, heading to the bathroom to pop a few asprin. Every time I drink wine I forget that I get hangovers from it. Will I never learn? As I rub at my eyes, I hear voices from somewhere in my apartment. After I brush my teeth and comb my hair into some semblance of order, I go out to investigate.

When I enter my living room, I find my guardian angel sitting across from two handsome men dressed in street clothes. Castiel jumps up nervously and gives an apologetic expression.

"Um, Alex. These are the Winchesters."

"I'm Sam." He stands up and the first thing I notice about him is how tall he is. He has a strong jaw and a kind smile, I notice as he holds out one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of his well-worn jacket. I take his hand and my eyes flit up to his eyes. Sam's eyes are a brilliant shade of green, like his brother's. But, they're much more kind and seem hopeful. His straight eyebrows convey a soft expression. "Nice to meet you, Alex. Sorry to drop in on you like this, I know you weren't exactly expecting us."

I squeeze his hand before I release it and nod at Castiel. "I wasn't expecting him, either. Apparently you two aren't surprised though." The angel's eyes widen and he looks away distractedly.

Sam Winchester drops my hand and squints, tilting his head to see my eyes. "You're hung over, aren't you?" A smirk forms on his lips and reveals his teeth in sympathetic amusement.

A chuckle escapes my mouth and I nod, rubbing my temples. "Yep. I am."

"Ah, I see." Sam laughs at me before walking back to the sofa and lounging in it, shaking his head. The other Winchester, who I figure to be Dean, gives me an devastatingly charming smile. The kind that if this were a cartoon would make any woman in any room faint dramatically. "Dean Winchester. It's definitely a pleasure to meet you, Alex." His green eyes sparkle mischieviously under his perfectly arched eyebrows and I feel a blush color my face and neck. His eyes are intense, holding depths of emotion that most people wouldn't register past his handsome face and playful mannerisms. Luckily for me I have a fair background in psychology and am adept at reading body language, I thank myself as I try to ignore the blush rising on my cheeks.

"Um, nice to meet you too, Dean." I stutter and jerk my thumb over my shoulder, backing out of the living room. "I'm going to go take a shower."

Feeling like a stupid teenager, I hurry off and grab clean clothes. My face and neck are still red and warm from blushing as I turn on the water. My hands instinctively fold my clothes up and drop them in a pile in the corner before I step into the refreshing shower. The hot water pelts my skin and I sigh while rubbing shampoo into my hair. I don't get how I'm supposed to help those two. They look perfectly competent. They're both clearly hunters though. Quick reflexes, and by the way they move, they're probably pretty strong.

I just don't see what help I could be. And me, hunting demons? That's a concept, to say the least.

"Alex?" I hear Castiel's voice and grind my teeth before poking my head out of the shower curtain and staring at him blankly. He fixes me with an equally deadpan face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm hungover, but, yes, I'm alright. Why?" I stick my head back in the shower and slather face wash on my face, quickly holding up a finger outside the curtain. "Just a sec, I can't hear you." The grapefruit scented soap runs down to the drain and makes me feel less grungy. "Okay, what were you saying?"

"Is there anything you'd like us to do while you get around."

I stick my head out again and smile gratefully. "Yes. Can you cook?"

He shakes his head. "No. But, I'm sure Sam or Dean can." His nose curls in disgust. "Though I wouldn't trust Dean's cooking..."

"Good. Can you get them started on breakfast? There's stuff in my kitchen, I'm sure they can make something out of what's there."

With a brisk nod, Castiel disappears and I finish my shower in peace. It brings me a small amount of comfort to go about my regular routine of blowdrying my hair into it's bobbed state and putting my makeup on. I clean the bathroom up and dress in jeans and a grey thermal, topping it with a blue hoodie. Much more awake, I nod in satisfaction and go out to my kitchen. What I see makes me pause and laugh.

Sam and Dean had shed their jackets and brought out a laptop that perched precariously on my fridge, blasting classic rock. The contrast between the two is as striking as the similiarities, however. Sam is clearly the more personable, sweeter of the two, with longer hair giving him a more relaxed appearance than Dean's more militant, short cut. Dean seems like a bounder type, a charmer, I think as I cross my arms and lean against the doorway to watch their interaction.

The brothers were arguing playfully over who makes better scrambled eggs, and just when they were about to break into a round of Rock-Paper-Scissors, I stepped in.

"Sorry, guys, but," I crack six eggs into the bowl, add pepper and salt and look up at Sam's surprised face. "I make the best eggs. Can you grab me a pepper?"

Sam sniffs and shakes his head, a wide smile on his face. "Sure." He reaches in my fridge and tosses me a pepper. I chop it up, beat the eggs, add the pepper and pour them in the skillet. The laptop fades out of a Creedence Clearwater Revival song and into "Dust in the Wind" by Kansas.

"Ooh. I love this song." I remark in passing. Dean flashes me an approving smile and I hum along to the song. Sam starts singing quietly and I glance over at him in surprise before joining in. He can actually sing okay, I note with a barely concealed smile. "I think I'm going to like you two."

"Of course!" Dean says with a scoff. "How could you not? We're awesome."

I burst out laughing and Dean plays air-guitar with a spatula before he turns back to the bacon, loading it onto a plate and sliding it in the oven to keep warm.

Sam winks at me and jams a pancake in his brother's mouth when he comes up. Dean grins and eats the pancake before he slaps Sam with a piece of uncooked bacon.

"Ugh, man! Gross!" Sam cringes, but is laughing at his brother's antics. After piling pancakes onto a cookie sheet, he slips them into the oven too and adds more to the skillet. I move the scrambled eggs into the oven on the same sheet as the pancakes before popping toast into the toaster. "So, Alex," the tall Winchester pushes his sleeves up. I notice several scars and other marks, but I don't comment. "how are you holding up?"

I hold my tongue for a few moments, toting dishes and glasses out to the table gaves me time to think of a response. The brothers bring the food out to the table and I bring butter and syrup.

"I guess, I'm still in shock." The answer is honest and Dean nods understandingly, dragging his had along his jaw. "I mean, I'm suppposed to jump up and become a demon hunter with you two, right?" They look at one another with thoughtful expressions for a moment and bob their heads in agreement. "But, I don't know anything about you two, nor do I know anything about the job." I butter a slice of my toast and shove a strip of bacon in my mouth before I grab orange juice from the refridgerator.

Dean laughs out loud at me. "That makes sense though. Normal people aren't supposed to react to things like this like they do to reading a news paper or something." His eyebrows arch perfectly, which is slightly intimidating. "But, you seem to be handling it pretty well," he remarks before stepping out of the kitchen.

I snort at that before grabbing the eggs out of the skillet and bringing them to the table where the brothers had already started serving themselves.

I plop down into a seat and stab some pancakes, dragging them onto my plate along with some bacon. My head shakes. "I'm not really though. I'm angry, I'm confused, and I want answers."

Sam purses his lips and cuts a piece of his pancake off. I pour orange juice into a glass for myself and pass it to him.

"Mm, 'anks!" Sam mumbles with a mouth full of pancake as he pours some juice for himself, which Dean promptly swipes. Sam swallows his food and glares at his brother. "Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean retorts under his breath. Sam rolls his eyes.

"So," Dean squints and impatiently puts almost a whole pancake drenched in melted butter and syrup in his mouth before pointing a fork at me. He swallows it and continues talking. "what has Castiel told you?"

"Not a whole hell of a lot. He rattled off a couple dozen types of monsters, but that's about it. He said I'm supposed to help you guys hunt down demons and stuff?"

Dean purses his lips. "That's pretty much it." Sam scoffs irritatedly and punches his brother in the arm with a resounding thud. "OW!"

Sam glares at me. "That's not it at all. Ignore him." I slice my pancake up and listen to him. "Apparently the angels sensed that you're in tune with this kind of thing and think we need your help or something. Maybe you've seen a ghost or that sort of thing?"

I feel my face pale of color and both of the Winchesters stare at me, eyebrows raised with attention. "Yeah... I have. And it isn't like people think it is."

"Very true." Sam says sadly and Dean toys with his flask pensively. "We've been through that before. However, that gives you an advantage. You have a little more knowledge than the average person."

"I guess." I shrug uncomfortably and look at Dean. He's pouring liquid from his silver flask into his orange juice. I shove my glass towards him silently and he nods in understanding, dumping some into my orange juice. I pull the glass back to me and drink some. Tastes like vodka, I decide. My stomach knots and I force the pancake in my mouth down my throat. "I have a thousand questions."

Sam' pulls a face at me that says "go figure" and laughs shortly. "Makes sense. Ask away!"

"Well..." I shift in my chair and cross my legs. "How come my grandfather was so aggressive before his ghost disappeared last year? Gramps was always a bit crabby, but he was never mean. Towards the end there, whenever he showed up, things were shattering..." A small choking sound comes from Dean and startles me, causing me to look at him in surprise. I find his jaw set in a tight grimace and I notice his eyes are distinctly tear filled. When I glance at Sam, his are too. "I... I take it you guys have..."

Sam swallows hard and nods quickly. "Yeah... We've experienced that." He is quiet and Dean excuses himself to the bathroom. Once the door shuts, Sam's mouth quirks and his brow knots in a sad expression. "Bobby, the man who was pretty much our Dad..." Sam Winchester pauses and stares at his plate. "He died. But, he stayed around for a while after that. You see, traditional lore isn't completely wrong. Spirits that died a violent death or feel they have unfinished business are sometimes strong enough to remain. Or, if there's an object they valued, they can follow it."

"Like a tether?" I ask, swigging my orange juice and wincing at the vodka's bite.

Sam nods briskly. "Exactly. He wanted vengeance on the thing that killed him. That vengeance or hatred in a person can cause their spirit to be tainted. They become an evil spirit the longer they're here, or what we call a poltergeist." He twirls a pancake around in the puddle of syrup on his plate. "They lose who they were."

My heart feels twisted in pain and tears leak out of the corner of my eyes uncontrollably. "Gramps..." I choke down the urge to cry. "Gramps was killed in a robbery three years ago. He was around for a few weeks until he finally disappeared."

"That's not a bad thing, Alex." Sam says, squeezing my hand. "That probably means that he was becoming dangerous and a hunter put him to rest."

"What does that entail?" I'm forced to ask what it means and Sam squeezes my hand once more before letting go and taking a deep breath.

"Salting and burning the remains if a person wasn't cremated." He eats a pancake piece after that, in an attempt to stop the conversation.

"Grandpa was cremated." I interject, causing Sam's expression to become more downcast than it was and me to fall silent.

"In that case, whatever they were most attached to..." He brushes a piece of his hair back behind his ear and aimlessly stirs a piece of pancake in syrup. "is found and burned."

My face goes blank with realization. "Grandma's wedding ring."

Sam's handsome tan face pales and he says nothing, as Dean stalks down the hall and sits down again. He takes a straight gulp of his flask and I stare at my blue table cloth and hold my hand out. Instantly he hands me the flask and I, too, take a straight gulp of it. I'm forced to chase it with orange juice, but, I repeat the process before handing it back to Dean.

"Excuse me, would you? I apologize." The brothers nod and continue eating their breakfasts in solemn silence, not even looking at one another. I grab my orange juice sheepishly and drink it all, putting it in the kitchen sink before grabbing my jacket and stepping outside on my balcony. I slide down the glass door and stare out at the church, lighting my cigarette with a shaking hand and inhaling the mentholated smoke.

"Why would you send me to the church, God?" I question in a whisper to the air. The only answer I get is the rush of traffic and the faint sound of wind rustling the trees. "What good could possibly come of this?"

A hollow knock vibrates the glass, interrupting my thoughts and I glance up to see Dean standing on the other side. He points to the balcony, then to himself. I scoot away from the glass and he steps out, cautiously shuts the door enough that we don't get locked out, and sits next to me.

"Rough morning, huh?" He inquires, gesturing at my cigarette.

"You better believe it," A soft huff sounds from my nose and I jerk my head to the side. "Especially if I've resorted to this."

"I can't understand that, to tell you the truth. I was born into this." He tells me, squinting out at the city. "Saving people, hunting things; the family business." The older Winchester's voice is tinged with sarcasm as he stares out at the distance. "It all started when our Mom was killed. Sammy was six months old, I was four. Dad was obsessed with finding the thing that killed her." I exhale a puff of smoke and watch it disappear in the breeze. Patience is a virtue, I remind myself as I wait for him to continue.

"Turns out it was a demon. Scum sucking yellow eyed bastard named Azazel." The muscles along Dean's jaw twitch and he shakes his head in disgust. "He'd been planning to use human kids who he'd given demon blood to when they were babies to create an army. Sammy was one of those kids. We stopped the son of a bitch, but, he killed Sam's girlfriend and our Mom." His fingers unscrew the cap of his flask and he takes a pull from it. "A lot of other people died in between the time we found out what Azazel was and when we finally ganked that son of a bitch."

He stretches his legs out and crosses his arms over his chest, still looking out at the blue sky. "I don't even know what normal is. What's normal to feel when you destroy a werewolf or a vampire, or exorcise a demon, or get rid of a poltergeist once a week? Am I supposed to feel sad, knowing they were people once too, or something?" After a long moment of silence, Dean stops squinting and turns his eyes to me. "Basically," His eyes settle on my blue ones and I realize I hadn't noticed how brilliantly green they are before. "if you weren't shaken up by this a bit, I'd think you weren't human. I don't know that I am anymore."

He doesn't say anything else before he stands up and goes back inside. Long after my cigarette has burned itself out and I had tossed it away, I sit hunched up, hugging my legs to my chest, watching cars go by. Most of them are grey or white, a few are black. A motorcycle zips by like a bee towards a flower, followed by a pale blue Volkswagen. Feeling numb, I walk back inside.

Sam and Dean are slouched on my sofa, and the dishes are all stacked up nicely on the table. I plop down next to them and Sam's leg rests against mine once I'm settled into the beige cushion. He taps my arm and I say nothing, I simply nod at him. He leans in close and I stiffen as his fingers brush my hair away from my ear.

"I know it sounds harsh, but, it's honestly the best thing. No one should be cursed to be a poltergeist and exist in hatred." The whisper in my ear brings me back to what is now my reality and I lean my head back against the sofa.

"How the hell am I supposed to learn everything I need to know without a few years, at least?" I ask him, staring at the blades of my ceiling fan.

"Castiel said he has a plan." Dean states bluntly, his deep voice sounds cold. "If only he'd show up."

"I nearly forgot about him," I admit, scratching my head with a glare. "where did he run off to?"

"He never tells us." Sam states, stretching his long legs out and yawning loudly. "I'm tired."

"You're tired?" I exclaim, looking at him in disbelief. His eyes are wide in surprise and he shrugs defensively. "Unbelievable."

Dean stands up and walks off to the guest bedroom. When he comes back, he's carrying a weathered green duffel bag, which he tosses on the floor and unzips. "We need to make this place secure."

"Oh... Right." Sam mumbles and practically slides off the sofa onto the floor. He grabs a can of white spray paint and salt.

"Uhhh... Guys?" I point at their arsenal of salt, spray paint and what looks like a small jar of blood. "What the hell is all that for?"

"Salt repels spirits for a bit, spray paint for devil's traps and sigils. The blood is mine and Sam's, and that's for anti-angel spell work." Dean explains as he pulls things out of the mystery bag.

"Anti-angel spells? I thought angels were good guys."

Dean shakes his head and his handsome face is not amused at all. "Nope. They're kind of assholes, actually. Except Cas." He pauses and makes an admitting expression. "Well, sometimes he's an asshole too."

Sam makes an apologetic face at me and motions for me to follow him.

He crosses over to my door and locks it. "Do you have a rug?"

"You guys are going to ruin my apartment!" I whine, settling my face in a pout and crossing my arms over my chest. "In the closet..." I answer begrudginly. Sam retrieves the dark blue rug and tosses it towards the wall before spray painting a giant circle over the floor. "Wait... There's nothing there, Sam."

I hear Dean laugh across the room. "I knew she was going to say that. You owe me a burger, Sammy!"

Sam growls and stalks over to the bag, grabbing a light. "Here." He hands it to me and points at the ground. "Can you shine that over the carpet?"

"I guess." I click the light on and mentally berate myself when a large circle glows in the UV light. "Glow in the dark paint!"

Sam grins and sprays a giant star inside the circle, carefully ensuring that the lines are solid, then puts symbols in each blank space on the outside of the star inside the circle. He points the spray paint can at the ground and looks at me. "This, is a Devil's Trap. Any demon that steps inside of that will be trapped, just like the name says. We figured that putting it in glow in the dark paint would probably be less suspicious than red, especially considering that this is an apartment." He smudges the paint at the edge. "If the paint isn't completely solid, a demon can just walk right out. Here," He holds his hands out, one holding the spray paint. "switch me. Go ahead and fix it."

"Okay. Sure," I push my hair back off my face in annoyance. "I'll help deface my rental flat." I shake the paint and spray the spot where Sam broke the circle. He just laughs at me.

"Wait," I grab his arm as he turns away from me. He stops and stares at me in mild surprise. "are you guys anticipating an attack on this place?"

Dean pauses in his spray painting and looks over his shoulder incredulously. "Of COURSE not! But, these things do happen." He turns back to his spray painting a sigil on my wall. "Better safe than sorry."

I slump down on my sofa and bury my face in my hands with a groan. "I can't believe this..."

Sam walks past and chuckles, but I don't see him. I sit listening as they spray paint and open containers, close them, move things and replace objects and finally, after a while, stop moving.

"We're done, Alex."

"If I move my hands, am I going to have an aneurism?" I fear to remove my hands from my face, imagining what they might have done to my apartment.

"That'll ruin the surprise!" Dean exclaims. I can tell he's an older brother, because his voice distinctly sounds of perverse amusement. Just like my older brothers sound like when they pick on me.

I peer through the crack in my fingers and slowly move my hands, frowning. Everything looks the same to me. My framed paintings are still hung on the walls, my curtains aren't coated in paint, the flowers are still in their vase on the table, and everything seems in perfect order.

"Pretty good, eh?" Dean's expression is one of smug pride. "We've got this down to a science. The blood sigil is painted on the bookshelf behind your books on the middle shelf and also behind the calendar on the wall. The devil's trap is on the floor by the door, there's holy water in the vase and we have..." A long silver blade drops out of his sleeve and he holds it up, inspecting it in the light. "an angel blade here that can kill angels and demons."

"Hey!" Sam grins. "You finally mastered the up-the-sleeve trick that Cas does!"

Dean returns his brother's grin from ear to ear. "Yup!"

"Can I see that?" I ask, crossing the room and walking over to Dean. He hands me the angel blade and I toy with holding it different ways. I decide that holding it with the blade parallel to my arm is the best bet. "Can I have one of these, do you think?"

Dean snaps it back from me. "Nope! This is mine."

"Fine... Jerk. And blood sigils on the bookshelf sounds like a demented adult Goosebumps story," I mumble while crossing over to the shelf and pulling my books out. Lo and behold, there really is a strange symbol painted in blood on the back. "that being said, is this a one time use?" I snap a picture on my phone and save it before moving over to the bag and grabbing the UV light. I shine it on the carpet where Sam sprayed the devil trap and I snap a picture of that, too.

Dean makes a strangely impressed, albeit very amused face and stands there with his hands in his pockets. Sam smiles in amazement, his head tilted to the side a bit. "Yeah. It loses it's power after one use. You're really taking this seriously, aren't you?"

My hands instinctively burrow into my pockets and I shrug. "From what I understand, this isn't something I can be cavalier about. So, yes, I am taking this seriously." I suppress a smile as I walk off to my bedroom and pull out a black, leatherbound notebook. I've been looking for a reason to use this, I reflect, running my hand over the smooth cover and pulling the ribbon out of the binding. What better use than to record the knowledge about being a demon hunter?

"So," I sit down on the floor with a pen and my notebook and smile humorlessly. "where do we start?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"And that," Sam slides a sketchbook across the floor to me and waves at it. "is how you can tell what sort of demon you're dealing with."

I shift some of my papers to the side and pick up the book. On the page are drawings of eyes. Red ones, black ones, gold ones, ones with pupils like a cat, dark blue glowing ones.

"These are incredible." Sam laughs in embarassment and I smile. "No, really! These are amazing!"

Dean shouts at my television and throws his arms up in the air. "Seriously?! There's no _way _that bastard made a headshot from that far away!"

"You _really_ shouldn't have let him play that game..." Sam mutters, shaking his head and flipping through a worn, tan leather notebook. The pages were stuffed with clippings and photos. "He's like a little kid."

"Shut up, Sammy!" Dean barks, rapidly mashing buttons on my Play Station 3 controller. Sam shrugs with an amused grin and doodles on his papers. I guess I shouldn't have let him play Fall Out.

I crack my neck before turning my attention back to the papers scattered all over the floor. I look at Sam's sketch book and his eyebrows raise inquiringly.

"Hey Sam, can I have some of these drawings for my notebook?"

He stretches his arms over his head with a slight groan and I hear his back crack. His long, brown hair is tucked behind his ears and just brushing the collar of his grey, v-neck teeshirt. He really does have great hair... "Well, I guess. But, I could just draw those in your book for you, you know?"

"I guess you could at that." I remark, rubbing the ribbon between my fingers and handing him my notebook. He takes it and begins doodling something on the first page. "I don't know about you two, but I'm starving."

"Oooh..." Dean looks up, finally figuring out that he can pause the video game. "Let's order pizza." A huge, childish grin lights up his face and I laugh heartily. A pinging sound causes Sam to check his phone.

"Pizza actually does sound really good." I agree and Dean smiles triumphantly. "What do you think Sam?"

"Pizza's fine, but, Dean," He's gazing at his phone with a mild frown. "I just got a text. From Crowley."

"What the hell does he want? No pun intended." Dean pushes the controller away and stands up. The surly Winchester's lips are pursed tightly.

"Apparently he wants to talk to us about something urgent." Sam shrugs and passes his phone to his brother who glares at the screen.

"Who's Crowley?" I pipe up in genuine curiousity. This is a name I haven't heard yet.

"Crowley is the King of Hell." Sam remarks with a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

"Ah. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You're buddies with an angel, afterall." I reply, condensing the sheets of paper on the floor into one pile and placing it on the coffee table. "Is he a friend of yours?"

"Royal pain in the ass, actually." Dean states gruffly, tossing Sam's phone back to him and turning to me with a grimace. "He used to be a crossroads demon, a deal maker. But, when Lucifer was locked back up in the cage, Hell was in chaos, so Crowley swooped in and took over."

"I thought Hell was supposed to be chaotic." One eyebrow raises on my face.

"That's the general assumption, but, let's not talk about it, okay?" Sam remarks swiftly from behind my notebook.

My eyes roll and I make a mental note to not talk about Hell. "I'm starting to realize that nothing is like people think it is."

"That's what we thought, too, at first." Sam remarks in passing, sending a text and then closing his phone before looking at me. "What's the best pizza place? I'll pay."

"This little corner place down the street. The number's on the fridge." I jerk my thumb over my shoulder and sift through my notes.

Sam walks off and Dean grins, throwing his arm over my shoulder. "You're going to be meeting a demon. Just take it easy and act natural." Just as he winks at me and brings his arm back to his side, a man dressed in all black appears in the kitchen next to Sam. He tugs on Sam's sleeve while he's on the phone.

"Get stuffed crust pizza, Moose!" He begs in a gruff, accented voice.

"_That's Crowley? King of Hell?" _I mouth silently at Dean who scratches his neck and rolls his eyes in annoyance.

Sam places the order, adding on a stuffed crust pizza with pepperoni and hangs up. Crowley seems pleased and walks into the living room.

"I'm assuming this is your place, considering these boys wouldn't know good taste even if it hit them in their faces?" Crowley says to me with a faint and slightly adorable smile. "And you are?"

I can't help the smile that crosses my lips. "I'm Alexandra Ballard, and yes, this is my place."

He bows his head slightly and holds out a hand. I take it and he kisses the top of my hand lightly. "A pleasure, I'm sure. I assume Moose and his brother told you who I am, but, let's face it- they lack my charm." Crowley winks at me, seeing Dean's irritation. "I'm Crowley, King of Hell."

I sheepishly stick my hands in my pockets. "Awfully charming for the King of Hell, if you don't mind me saying so." I feel my heart beat racing with adrenaline, unsure of how to act all of a sudden. I didn't picture the King of Hell as a Leprechaun-esque English man. In fact, that was the furthest thing from my imagination.

Crowley's face forms a hurt pout at the Winchesters and he wraps a light arm around my waist, resting his hand on my hip. "Really, guys? Moose? I figured after everything that the three of us have been through, you would at least give me a good rating."

"You're the King of _Hell_, Crowley," Sam sneers, his eyes narrowing while he crosses his arms over his chest. "even on a good day, you're still a bad guy."

"Hey," I interject with a frown. "I don't think he's too bad."

"Really?" Crowley pulls back a bit and he seems distinctly intriuged by my response. "What would make a huntress side with a demon?"

"I'm not a hunter." Sam and Dean have stone cold, poker faces on, I notice out of the corner of my eye. I'm on my own against the ruler of Hell. "But, I side with you in this case because I feel that you're reasonable." I chew the inside of my cheek and feel my eye twitch in anxiety. "Does that make sense?"

None of us are moving or saying anything, I notice. The silence is so pregnant that all I hear is my heart beat in my ear. Suddenly Crowley grins and plants a kiss on my cheek, leaving me stunned and speechless with my eyes presumably the size of saucers. "Hah! See, boys?! I'm reasonable! As I've told you before!" The short, round faced demon is clearly pleased with my response, disappearing and reappearing in a blink in my crimson red recliner. Suiting, I think mildly.

Sam's shoulders visibly loosen but Dean's expression is not relieved. More like he's telling me I just cut it very close. The boys sit on the sofa and begin talking to the King of Hell and I excuse myself silently to my bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. My small hands grip the edge of the sink and I stare at my reflection.

I'm not special. I don't see why I was picked out of millions of other people to help the Winchesters. I'm just a twenty six year old ex-Army weapon's mechanic with bright blue eyes, fair, freckled skin and brown, bobbed hair. The only thing that could even remotely make me special is that there's a demon in my house.

"There's a demon in my house." I watch the words leave my mouth and my eyes grow wide in the mirror upon realizing that the statement is genuinely true.

Not just any demon, the King of Hell.

Good Lord... I'm having the King of Hell over for pizza.

Talk about surreal.

That's just not right. He shouldn't be so friendly and jovial. There's something morbidly wrong with this scenario. One day I'm just me, working in a pet shop and the next I'm being told I get to help hunt down supernatural creatures I didn't even know exist. While my mind is reeling, I feel my phone buzz in my jean's pocket and retrieve it.

A text from a number I don't recognize shows on the screen and I deftly scroll my finger across it, entering the pattern key and open it.

From: Unknown sender, 17:43

Crowley wants you in on this discussion.

PS: This is Sam. Castiel gave Dean and I your number.

"Oh." I nod and save Sam's number to my phone just as another notification pops up in the bar on my screen.

From: Unknown sender, 17:45

Hey Alex it's Dean. Crowley wants you to hear what he has to say. Not sure why.

Just be careful what you say to him.

I save Dean's number to my contacts and sigh. "Game on, I guess." I say aloud in the empty room before running my brush through my hair and returning to the living room.

"So," I lower myself to the floor and sit cross legged beside my coffee table. "what's going on?" I consider myself an impartial party in this dilemma, I note in my brain. No taking sides. If there is a side to take, anyway. IF there is, I'll figure it out from there.

Crowley clears his throat and steeples his fingers. "I need your help."

"Who, specifically, do you need the help of?" My eyebrows arch curiously.

A barely perceptible, amused smirk curls Crowley's lips. "All of you, actually. They say two heads are better than one, so certainly three are better than two, especially a prettier head combined with these two. Also, you'll surely provide a different outlook, considering the bias these two have." Dean curses under his breath. "The brains being Moose, the brawn being Squirrel, and the balance between the two, is you, Alex." Crowley winks.

"Wait," I hold up my hand and everyone stares at me. I grit my teeth behind my lips and frown in concentration. "why do you need my help? I'm not even a hunter, Mr. Crowley."

The dark eyed King of Hell grins like a lazy lion that had an easy target to prey on and I find myself feeling uneasy. "No, but, you will be. And while _normally _that would deem you a threat and incite me to kill you..." His amusement increases and I feel my heart beat in my throat. "I realize that there is a need for balance. Humans die all the time. Few go upstairs when they die, while many come to Hell and become demons over time. My demons kill a few humans," Crowley holds his left hand and his right hand up like a scale. " you kill a few demons and balance is kept. So, hunters are as necessary an evil as I am. And, I can't kill a pretty, clever, soon-to-be huntress."

I tap my fingers on the back of my left hand and ponder this silently for a few moments. He makes a valid point. About the balance. Not about me. He could easily kill me. But, I would have to assume that Dean and Sam would dismember him or something.

"Getting back to the matter at hand, Crowley." Dean's jaw is tight and he's clearly aggravated. I wonder if all demons have that effect on him... Speaking of effects, why is Crowley not bothering me?

"Ever the patient one, aren't you?" Crowley antagonizes Dean, who fixes a murderous stare at him before he huffs and sips a glass of wine. I hadn't noticed him getting one... "Apparently there's a little band of lads cads who were loyal to Abbadon, that, have started a little group above ground. However, each time my people get close, they scatter. I've managed to capture two of them, but," He pauses and glances at the door. "pizza is here."

Sam jumps up and yanks the door open before the delivery person rings the bell. I get plates and napkins.

"As you were saying, Crowley?" I pass him a plate and he thanks me.

"Right. As I was saying. Abbadon's former followers have been causing a fair amount of havor above ground. I don't have the skills that you hunters have at your disposal to retrieve them and punish them." Crowley daintily rolls his sleeves up and takes a piece of pepperoni, stuffed crust pizza. Dean pretty much bypassed his plate entirely and attacked a slice violently. I would not want to be that pizza, I think. "Also, the two who were captured died before I could extract any meaningful information from them."

I take a piece of extra cheese pizza and decide to let it cool. "So, if you don't mind me asking," I lace my fingers together on my lap and frown at Crowley. "who's Abbadon?"

The King of Hell dabs his mouth with a napkin and leans back. "She was a Knight of Hell, the last, actually. The Knights of Hell were hand trained by Lucifer. The only demon stronger than them, in terms of physical strength, is Cain."

"Cain?" My eyes zap up to his, wide in surprise. "As in Cain and Abel's Cain?"

Crowley's eyes dart away from mine for a moment and he seems tense. "Yes. The original Father of Murder. The Mark of Cain is a brand he bore that renders the owner berserk." Crowley holds a finger up. "But, _only_ when used with the First Blade. He has since passed it on to a successor, however." The King of Hell shifts anxiously and picks up his pizza.

"Why on Earth would anyone take it willingly?" I ask aloud, picking my pizza up and taking a bite.

Crowley opens his mouth to speak, but Dean growls at him like a rabid animal. Sam's face becomes a grim mask and his nostrils flare slightly. I take that as a warning to stop asking questions.

Crowley's eyes flicker to Dean and I put two and two together.

Dean... Dean Winchester, the silly flirt who was cooking breakfast in my kitchen this morning with his brother is the bearer of the Mark of Cain.

"Oh." I tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear and take a huge bite of my pizza.

Crowley shakes his head and chuckles mildly. "It _really _is good pizza." The silence in the room remains for some time. Dean angrily eats his pizza and Sam awkwardly tries to talk to Crowley about the situation. After over an hour of talking the situation out, it is decided that we will help.

"Very well then." Crowley stands up and straightens his black coat out, smiling like a cat with a mouse in it's claws. "Miss Ballard," he takes my hand and places a chaste little kiss on it. "I'll be seeing you?"

A blush warms my cheeks and I smile. "I hope so. At least you're civilized company."

"Moose is civilized company, aren't you Moose?" Crowley taunts Sam, who smiles totally insincerely.

The King of Hell beams and chuckles before disappearing.

"You shouldn't encourage him." Sam tells me with a mildly disapproving expression while putting another piece of pizza on his plate. "He's bad news."

"I don't know." A shrug raises my shoulders. "I kinda like him." Dean chokes on his pizza and starts coughing.

Sam's eyes narrow and flicker over my face intently. "You mean to tell me that he doesn't throw you off?"

I pull a face and shake my head. I really need to do something about this hair, I think, pushing it off my face. "No, not really. Why?"

"Because he's a _demon_, Alex." Dean speaks for the first time in over an hour and a half. I stare at him nervously. "Demons naturally give people like you and I, and Sammy here," he stops and his eyes glance at his brother for a second. "for the most part, a bad feeling."

"Honestly guys, I think he's okay." I cross my ankles and swallow the knot in my throat. If normal people are bothered by demons, I guess I'm not normal. I drop the conversation and plug in my headphones, going over the events of the last day or so in my head. This has been entirely surreal. I met the King of Hell, demon hunters and a real angel. How many people can say they've done that, I wonder.

I'm sure my Mother would probably try to drown me, Sam and Dean all in holy water. Or something. Probably kill me herself. She would not approve of Crowley.

"Castiel!" I hear Dean bark as the angel pops up in my living room wearing his typical attire and a stoic expression, which I guess is a part of his typical attire. "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Out. Getting information." He pins me with a dead eyed face. "There is a way I could transfer information directly to Alex."

Sam clenches his jaw anxiously and I shift. The tension level in the room jumps up by a tenfold.

"Woah, slow down, Cas." Dean, being the unusual voice of reason in this case, breaks the tension apart. "How would this be done?"

With a faint woosh and a blink, Castiel appears next to me and blinks. I feel the stress of the entire idea cause my arrhythmia kick in as I stare at his dark blue eyes. Serious, but, unbelievably naive. Incredibly slowly, he tilts his head to the side and exhales quietly. I hadn't even noticed him breathe.

"Essentially, it's a psychic link between the three of you, with me being a conduit." Cas looks over at the Winchesters. "I don't know if it will be successful, or if there will be any side effects. The source I got the information from was ancient."

Dean's green eyes roll and he exhales deeply, shaking his head. "I don't really see any other choice." He slaps his hands onto his legs and looks at Sam, who is chewing his lip apprehensively. "Sammy?"

Sam Winchester's expression tugs my heart strings in a way they had only been tugged when my dog begged for one last car ride before he died. The look on his face is one of anxiety, worry, and fear.

"Sam?" My voice is quiet and he glances over at me. "Are you in?"

I see his adam's apple bob as he swallows hard. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm in."

"What do we need to do, Cas?" Dean wiggles into the sofa to make room for Sam who sits down next to me.

Castiel removes his trench coat and hangs it neatly over the edge of my recliner. "Nothing. Just ensure there is contact between each of you." The broody-faced angel holds a hand out to Dean. Dean curls his lip with a scoff and takes Castiel's hand. Sam slips his hand around mine and traces circles on it with his thumb, attempting to comfort me. "Ready?"

We all nod. Castiel's eyes close, and so I close mine. I hear him mumble something in a weird language and Sam squeezes my hand.

I double over in pain, releasing Sam's hand and clutching my head.

No. Not pain.

Agony.

Overwhelming agony causes my body to writhe. I may be screaming, but, all I can hear are the sounds in my head.

_Voices, cries, screams, incantations and the sounds of shells hitting the ground._

_I see people._

_Sam smiling, the light from where ever he is making his green eyes look like peridots. Sam laughing in a car, sitting sadly on a bench in the rain, sleeping in hotel rooms, looking horrified as some invisible creature rips into his brother and his dad, and then falling over as one rends his face. Suddenly I see things through his eyes, feeling his emotions. I can't shut it out as memories and feelings pour though my mind and body._

_I see Dean. He's shouting at someone. I see him wiping blood off of his face, throwing punches at his brother, eating a cheeseburger. I see him yelling at his brother on a misty back road. I see him swinging a fire place poker through a ghost, beating a car up. Like with Sam, I feel and see things I can't describe through Dean's mind and eyes. The emotions are more intense and dark than his brother's..._

_I see Castiel with glowing white-blue eyes. I see him stabbing a long silver blade into the chest of a demon. I see him eating pie for the first time, eating a cheeseburger. I see things through his eyes that I don't think any human could make sense of. I feel hopelessness and confusion and fear. Loyalty, too, when he looks at Dean. I see other angels and people I don't know._

_I see a surly looking older man in a trucker hat with a face covered in trimmed facial hair chastising the boys._

_I see a young woman with long black, curly hair and tan skin, dark chocolately brown eyes smiling at Dean._

_I see a young woman with black, bobbed hair and a kind, sad face with hazel eyes talking to Dean in a hospital. _

_A redhead with eyes that are older and more dangerous than her young face belies. She has ashy black wings behind her, those green eyes glazed over in death._

_I see faces of people I've never met, flashing in my eyes like a movie on fast foward._

_With each new face comes a new emotion, but, the agony never ebbs._

_I feel white hot rage, impossible sorrow, overwhelming hopelessness, stinging jealous, confusion, pain, crippling fear, panic, love, worry, hope, lust, loyalty, heartbreak..._

_So strongly do these feelings flow through me that I can feel the tears streaming past my closed eyelids, but, I can't wipe them away._

_The voices overlap so loudly that discerning what they are saying is impossible. The tide of human faces turns to a flood of horrible, inhuman faces of creatures that I can't name. Some with rotten flesh, some are translucent, some with teeth like pirahnas. _

_A rainbow of eyes; gold ones, crimson red ones, dark blue ones that I recongnize as Castiel's, the impossibly green ones of Dean and Sam, glowing blue ones, chocolate brown ones that look soft and kind, black ones- they flicker past my eyes like cars on a highway before my vision goes red._

_Blood. _

_So much blood._

_Everywhere._

_On faces of people that I recognize and of strangers. On clothes, floors, hands, caked under nails and on skin, on walls, soaked into carpets, staining concrete, on the seat of a car, on the handles of guns and streaking through hair. _

Suddenly, it stops and I gasp for air.

Castiel is in front of me, his hands over mine on my head. Is he talking? I can't see...

I scream, sitting up in a blur of adrenaline and fear, my consciousness hitting me like a tractor trailer.

I'm in my bed, wrapped in Sam's jacket and my blanket. A glass crashes in my kitchen, I hear someone running, my door bursts open and Sam appears at my side.

"Sam..." I whimper, my whole body shaking. He wraps his arms around me tightly and strokes my hair, not saying a word "There are too many things in my head and they're scaring me. They hurt. It hurts still. So does my throat. Was I screaming?"

"Hey," Sam's hands cup my face and he wipes the tears off my face. "hey, Alex. You're okay. You've been out for the whole night and most of the morning. It's a little after noon."

My hands shake frantically. "Can't breathe," I choke out.

"Come on. Let's get you some air." Sam helps me stand and walk out to the living room. Through my blurry eyes, I see Dean and Castiel sitting on my balcony talking. Sam slips his shoes on and he snags a bottle of water off my table for me before opening the door for me where we step into the hall way. He doesn't take his jacket off of me, which practically reaches my knees but is warm. I'm grateful for that, because it hides the fact that my body is shaking like I'm being tazered a bit. "Here." He gently helps me hold the water bottle so I can drink it. After a few sips, I point at the elevator, feeling a bit less shaky.

The door dings open and shuts, and Sam looks at me. "Where to?"

I try and wipe my eyes a bit on the backs of my hands. "The roof."

"You got it." He says, pressing the button. I bounce on my toes and drink water, trying to gain some of my muscle control back.

I fling myself out the elevator door and nearly fall onto the rooftop before regaining my balance and speed walking to the gazebo where I plop onto the swing inside it. I inhale the cool air deeply and exhale slowly, attempting to regain control of myself. Sam sits down next to me and remains silent. I drink water and breathe.

"So, are you feeling any better?"

I smile, finally able to see. "Yeah. I feel a bit better. But, I'm sure I look like hell." I know there's a joke in there somewhere now, even if I can't make sense of the jumble of things in my head. "You're not blurry anymore."

He laughs a soft laugh, his lips curling to reveal his teeth, eyes wrinkling in a happy squint. Despite my mind reeling, I know that he was supposedly fated to be the vessel of Lucifer, to bring about the end of the world and fight his brother to the death. This fate was averted, thankfully.

No one so kind could be a host to evil and allow it to control them.

"Not even close." He slides his arm around my shoulders and squeezes me in a hug. "You're fine, I promise. You should see Dean when he wakes up in the morning." I can't help but laugh. "Oh, Alex... I'm so sorry you got dragged into all of this." I feel his heartbeat against my ribs. "I really am."

"Sam, don't be sorry." I see a flicker of his life flash in my eyes, but, it slips away. "If anything, I should be the one saying I'm sorry. I... I know everything now. It all makes sense."

The warmth of his arm moves, leaving me cold, and I find him wearing a panicked expression.

"Sam- it's okay!" I grip his hand tightly in mine. "Please, please. Don't worry. I swear, it's okay."

"Wh... What do you mean by _everything_?" His eyes implore me to answer, even if his uncharacteristically tiny voice doesn't.

I continue holding his hand, but, I can't look at him anymore. Those eyes...

"Everything, Sam, means... Everything." A deep breath fills my lungs and I take a moment to think of what to say.

"I know how your Mom and Jess were killed by Azazel, which brought your Dad to hunting in the first place and renewed your drive to hunt. I know how your father sacrificed himself for you and Dean at the end. I know that Ruby gained your trust and betrayed you by using you to free Lucifer and break the 66th seal."

My eyes slip closed.

"I know that you consider Bobby to be your adopted father and that you worry about Dean every day. I know that you love him and would do anything for him. I know that you believed in angels and that when Castiel first met you and called you the boy with the demon blood, it hurt you more than it showed. I know that every night you lay awake, wondering if tomorrow will be the last day you live while you replay your greatest fears over and over. I know about your nightmares, your hopes, your fears and dreams.."

My eyes fall upon Sam's face when I open them, and my heart breaks in half. His eyes are leaking tears down his face and his teeth are digging into his lower lip which is quaking. My hand squeezes his hand tightly and he looks at me, using his free hand to wipe the tears off his face.

"But, I also know that you're brilliant." I grin at him, fighting the tears that threaten to grow in my own eyes. "I know that you have an insatiable hunger for knowledge, which your brother loves to tease you for. I know that you love animals and are a kind soul. I know you are a great artist and an unbelievably strong person. You are wise, but, you aren't cynical. You're a beautiful soul, Sam Winchester. And, that," my tears finally break free, despite the genuine smile on my face. "is the truth. You just don't have the luxury of the outside perspective."

Sam suddenly wraps his arms around me in a bear hug and squeezes me. I laugh and wrap my arms, still swaddled in his jacket, around him clumsily, feeling happy. He kisses the top of my head and pulls away, smiling a genuine, crinkle-eyed smile. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

"It's just really weird." My hand motions to my temple and I shake my head. "I've got two other lives in my head. Your's and Dean's."

His eyes grow wide and he grins boyishly. "Anything I could pick on Dean for?"

I burst out laughing and take a swig of my water. "Loads of things! But, I can't tell you!"

"Awww." Sam's lip puffs out in a pout and I roll my eyes. "You're okay now, right?"

"Yeah," I nod, tucking my hair behind my ear. "I'm fine." My hair falls out from behind my hair instantly and I practically growl at it. "I'm _really_ tired of this."

Sam reaches over and twirls a piece of my hair, which surprises me. "You could get it cut."

"Yeah, I had my hair in a pixie cut a few years ago. I loved it." I'm sure my voice reflects my absent-mindedness due to him twirling my hair.

"Let's go get it cut," he says, dropping my hair.

"Really?" My head snaps over in shock. "Right now?"

He shrugs widely. "Sure! Why not? I've got the keys to the Impala anyway!" A bright smile lights up his face as he jumps off the swing and holds his hands out to me. "Come on!"

I pull a piece of my brown hair out in front of my eyes and stare at it. "It would be nice to have it gone again. And," I rise and pull his jacket around me. "to see the Impala." I take his hand and we walk to the elevator together.

"I'll make you a deal," Sam hits the ground floor button and looks at me seriously. "if you tell me one embarassing fact about Dean, I'll let you drive the Impala to wherever you get your hair done."

"WHAT?!" I squeal like a little kid. "Deal! Dean has an obsession with those magic finger massage beds at hotels and that's where all his laundry quarters go when you guys are on the road!"

Sam's head tilts back and he lets a hearty laugh out, clutching his stomach. "That's hilarious! Oh, God!"

By the time we reach the ground floor, Sam is sniffling and wiping tears off his cheeks. "Here." He hands me the keys and opens the door to the Impala when we get out. I do a little dance before sliding into the driver's seat and putting the keys in the ignition.

"Damn..." I run my hands along the leather seat. "_This _is a _real _car."

"Hurry up and drive." Sam says, shutting his door. "Dean is going to kill me if he knows I let you drive Baby."

"Yeah, yeah." I reverse out of the parking spot and drive off down the road. "I can see why he's protective of the thing though, considering that it was your father's and it's been through a lot..." I sigh happily as I drive. "This thing is a babe mobile."

Sam laughs. "I'm sure Dean would probably hug you for that statement."

I drive in silence for some time. "Hey Sam? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." He says, closing his phone.

"Um..." I chew on my lower lip for a minute. "Did the memory thing work both ways?"

The only thing I hear as I slow to a stop at a redlight is the engine of the Impala. I feel my stomach twist into knots and my arrhythmia kicks in. I fill my lungs with air and exhale slowly, my knuckles turning white as I grip the steering wheel tightly. My blue eyes flick up to the light. Still red. This is the longest red light wait in the history of waiting at red lights.

"Yes." Sam's voice finally cuts through the quiet and I resist the urge to vomit. Not in the car, I think, fighting the bile rising in my throat.

I speed all the way to the parking lot of the mall, parking on the outskirts near a fence. I promptly shut the engine off, get out and vomit in the grass. I hear Sam's door open and close, but, he doesn't come over to me. Finally, when the contents of my stomach are tossed out near the fence line, I gasp and shed Sam's jacket, pulling my tee shirt off and wiping my mouth on it before throwing it in a nearby garbage can and put his jacket back on over my tank top.

"Rough day, huh?" Sam hands me my water bottle and I swish a huge gulp of it around before spitting it out in the grass and drinking the remainder of the contents.

"Hah... Yeah." I stare at my hands in shame.

"Alex, I don't see why that upsets you so much." I watch Sam's hands slide into his jeans pockets. "I mean, you know everything about me now. You think you've done so many horrible things, but, you don't think that I have? I see a normal life, when I look at your memories. Normal things that normal people do. Not things to be ashamed of. You've never killed someone, you've never been possessed by a demon. You don't take the Mark of Cain, like Dean. You're a good person, through and through."

I look over at him and he smiles sweetly. "You just don't have the luxury of an outside perspective."

I can't help but smile, too, as I shake my head. "I think I've heard that before."

"Seriously," Sam's face morphs to a stern expression and his eyes settle on mine. "you, are a saint compared to me. But, you found the good in me and reminded me that I'm not just the things I've done." His left hand emerges and squeezes my elbow lightly. "Believe me, Alex."

I do, I think, looking up at the tall Winchester's eyes. I really do. "Come on. I'm going to go get my hair hacked off."

We both laugh and he slips his hand into mine as we walk to the doors.

"Woah..." Dean's eyes nearly fall out of their sockets and he jumps up, bobbing his head around mine like someone trying to get a better view at a concert. "that's a hell of a difference." He pulls back and smiles at me. "A good one, though! Can I touch it?"

I burst out laughing and nod. "Sure!"

Dean carefully runs his hand through my pixie cut hair. "I like it."

"Cas? What do you think?" Sam asks. We all turn to look at the angel, and simultaneously laugh. He's staring in shock at my hair.

"I... I don't... I think... I mean... Ugh." The angel shakes his head violently and disappears in a woosh.

"I think I scared him off."

"Nah, he always does that." Dean waves his hand aimlessly and then grows serious. "So, we should probably work on tracking those demons down, huh?"

"Yeah, probably." Sam says, walking over to his computer and opening it up. "Did Crowley give you any details about where they were last spotted?"

"Nope."

They go about talking amongst themselves and my phone buzzes. I unlock it and find a text from the number "666" that makes my eyebrows raise.

From: Unknown sender; 12:43

It was a pleasure meeting you, Alexandra. I look forward to our next meeting.

Crowley

PS: Abbadon's followers were last spotted in Colorado Springs. Good luck.

I chuckle under my breath and shake my head, texting him back.

To: Crowley

Thank you, Mr. Crowley. And, I hope to have you over for pizza again sometime. I'm sure there are many stories you could tell me.

Alex

"Hey guys, I think they were last seen around Colorado Springs." I casually put my phone in my back pocket and meet their expectant gazes.

"Um..." Sam looks like a puppy that just ran in circles chasing it's tail for too long.

"What?" Dean curls his lip at me.

I shuffle the back of my hair with my hand. "Crowley texted me."

Dean sighs deeply and rolls his eyes. "I guess we'll go with that."

"We should probably get going then, hmm?" Sam shuts his computer down and sticks in back in his bag carefully.

"I'll grab my gun." I amble off to my room and unlock my safe that's under the floor boards, beneath a carpet. My Smith and Wesson .45 hand gun is wrapped neatly in it's black, leather holster. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" I pull it out and strap the holster to my hip. I forgot how secure it makes me feel to have a gun on my hip. I grab the three boxes of ammunition that I have and load two magazines, sliding them into their slots before I reach deeping into the safe and find my Dad's old hunting knife, still in it's black sheath. "I'll take you, too," I clip it onto the left side of my holster.

I pack my plain black duffle bag with clothes and necessities of life before I carefully place the rest of my rounds in their boxes on top and sling it over my shoulder.

I slide my leather jacket on and walk out to Sam and Dean. Dean smiles flirtatiously and Sam's eyes grow wide as he stands up straight. "Wow."

"Yeah, wow." Dean agrees. "You look badass."

My cheeks turn pink and I shuffle awkwardly, tugging on the cuffs of my jacket. "Not like I'm trying too hard?"

Dean pulls his mouth downward and shakes his head. "Not at all." He comes over and runs his hand down my arm, feeling the leather. "Makes me miss my old jacket."

"Yeah, what ever happened to that thing?" Sam asks, returning to packing.

"Someone stole it, I guess. Which sucks," he turns away and slides his handgun from his waist into a concealed pocket inside his jacket. "because it was Dad's and all."

I scratch the back of my head anxiously. "Hey, Dean. I have a question."

"Shoot." He doesn't look up from zipping the bag up and slinging it over his shoulder.

"When Cas linked all our minds up, did you get any of my or Sam's memories?" The question falls out of my mouth quickly, because I'm afraid to ask him anything that might upset him.

His green eyes meet my blue ones in surprise. "A few, but, mostly only important ones, I guess? I know you better now, for sure, but, I don't know your entire life story." Dean squeezes his eyes shut and knots his brows. "I... I know that your Mom lives in Pennsylvania with your older brother. I know that you think about them a lot and wonder if they supported your choice to come out to Virginia." Dean twitches a bit. "I know your favorite color is blue, you love music and art, you're sad that you couldn't stay in the Army, but you're also happy to be out. I know that you're a hell of a force to be reckoned with, too." His eyes pop open and he smirks. "Poor Darryl. Getting punched in the face with that peridot ring you had must have hurt like a son of a bitch."

"So, you know a decent amount." I nod approvingly. "Fair enough. Just, don't dig too deep."

He sniffs understandingly, but, as he turns away, I think I spot tears in his eyes. "Yeah... Anyway, let's get going."

"How come I can't sit up front?" My voice sounds whiny, even to me.

Sam grins and Dean laughs. "Driver and shotgun. You haven't earned either of those titles yet, Alex." Dean says to me, eyeing me in the rearview mirror.

"Actually..." I lean forward in my seat and start talking.

"_Hey look, a White Castle!_" Sam blurts out, effectively cutting me off. Right... Our little secret.

"I'm back."

I squeal in fright when Castiel appears next to me, causing Dean to slam on the brakes.

"Dammit, Alex!" Dean turns around and glowers at me, causing me to shrink into my seat apologetically. "Do that again and I'll leave you back at your apartment." He turns his glare to Castiel. "Want something to eat?"

Castiel nods politely. "Yes, please."

"Where have you been?" My elbow jabs the angel lightly in the ribs and he clears his throat as Dean pulls into White Castle's parking lot.

"I went to check out where Crowley told you the demons were last seen." He blinks and straightens his coat out.

"How did you know about that?" Dean inquires, rolling his window down to order.

"Residual psychic link between Alex and I." He says impatiently before continuing on with his statement. Sam looks slightly hurt. "There is definitely a group of demons in Colorado Springs, but, I don't know exactly where."

"Well, Colorado Springs isn't exactly a small place. Something like 430,000 residents." Sam remarks, digging in his wallet for some cash. He punches Dean lightly and gives him a twenty before turning around to Cas. "Is there any way you could go narrow it down?"

Castiel glares. "I'm not a demon detector."

Dean finishes ordering and pulls forward to pay. "Actually, Cas," he makes a face at the angel in the mirror. "you kind of are. Can you go find out where they are, please?"

The angel disappears in a vaguely hostile sounding woosh. We pull over after we get our food and wait for him, eating and chatting about the approximate number of demons we'll run into.

"I'm guessing at least twenty." I shrug, picking at my french fries.

"That's a fair estimation. But, it could be more. We won't know til Cas gets back."

"A closed building on Havana Street, apparently." Cas' disgruntled voice lets me know that he is back, and he grabs a burger from the bag in the front seat. His face is inches from Sam's. "There are 24 demons, by the way."

"Twenty four? Damn..." Dean is not happy about this, I know by his voice. But, even if that weren't enough, the way he ripped a huge chunk of his burger off and seemingly swallowed it whole was telling, too.

"Thanks Castiel." I say, offering him some consolation fries. He purses his lips and rolls his eyes before grabbing a bunch and munching on them. His mood improves greatly when I give him my burger in favor of more fries.

"Alright. That's a decent drive. I'm not sure how I feel about taking Baby that far." Dean throws his wrapper in a bag and sighs. "Cas?"

"Yes." Castiel doesn't even say anything after that.

"Alex," Dean slings his arm over the seat so he can turn around. "Can I leave Baby in your apartment's garage?"

I think for a moment and sip my Coke. "I don't see why it'd be a problem. My landlord is my Uncle, so, he shouldn't care too much."

"Awesome." He flashes a smile and starts the car.

"I'll meet you there." Castiel says, disappearing again in a woosh of fluttering wings.

"So, what can you tell me about the Men of Letters' bunker?" Dean asks as we drive back to my apartment.

"Not much. I don't even know where it is. All I know is that it's a pretty special place." I feel a flicker of memory in my head and grow silent. "The place holds too many memories."

"Yeah..." Sam's voice cracks a little bit. "Well... If Dean is going where I think he's going, the next question is, when is your lease up?"

I clear my throat anxiously. "Actually, I uh..." I go to twirl a piece of my hair and then remember I don't have long hair anymore. "I don't have one. That's my Aunt's guest house, basically. She doesn't use it much, so she keeps it for me, mostly. After Dad died, Mom got sick pretty badly, so my Aunt took care of me. She and my Uncle Jacob are pretty well off, so they don't mind."

"Well, would you want to come stay at the bunker with us? It's a pretty nice gig." Dean's green eyes stare at me in the rearview again and I shift awkwardly in the back seat.

"Are you sure you'll want me there?"

"Yes."

The Winchester brothers answer me in total unison with no doubt.

"That's all I needed to hear."

Dean smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Welcome to the Winchester Family Business, Alex."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

"Angel Express," I joke quietly at Sam as I fall face first onto the bed in the hotel room. I paid for half of the three day rental on my credit card while Sam and Dean paid for the rest in cash. Two rooms, interconnected, with two beds each and a pretty sweet mini-bar for three nights. "This is like a vacation. Even though I paid for half of it..."

"Yeah," Sam looks around cheerfully. "it's a hell of a lot nicer than our typical dives."

"I know! And at least we didn't have to drive all the way here."

"Yeah, it is a little weird that Cas zapped all of us here, Baby too." Sam's puppy face forms a pout and I shrug.

"I guess so."

"Well," He exhales and runs his hands through his hair. "I know that takes a lot of his angel battery. So, I just find it odd."

"Ugh, you think too much." I face plant into my feather pillow happily.

Dean's voice sounds in my room. "So, guys, who's with who?"

"I don't care!" I mumble from within a feather pillow.

"What did she say?" Castiel asks in that gravelly voice of his.

"I think she said she doesn't care." I hear Sam's answer him and I give a thumbs up to him. "Yup. She doesn't care. I guess I'll stay here."

"Ugh, fine. Stick me with Castiel." Dean grumbles and Sam laughs.

"I don't sleep so I don't see why there's a problem..." I listen as Castiel's voice follows Dean to the other room, and Sam locking the interconnecting door. Once I hear his frame hitting his bed, I roll over onto my stomach.

"So, Sam, what do we do now?" I yawn deeply and rub my eyes.

"Sleep. You're going to need to rest before tonight." Sam is field stripping and cleaning his handgun. Ah, the smell of CLP. "Just sleep."

I don't question it and allow my eyes to fall shut.

(Castiel's POV)

"So, we'll go at night. I think that's the best time for our ambush." Dean says, uncapping a beer from the mini bar and drinking it straight from the bottle.

"I agree."

I run my hand down my jaw and feel stubble.

My hand...

My jaw...

It still feels strange to be the only one in a vessel. After Lucifer liquified Jimmy Novak's original body, I was brought back in the same body, but, with no one but myself in here. I still refer to it, my body, as a host though. But, it isn't a host. It's where I live now.

It's very lonely.

I grab a beer from the mini-bar and turn on the television, perching on the edge of my bed.

I drink it slowly, and though my eyes stare at the television, my mind is elsewhere...

"Here." Sam takes my hand and places a bone handled knife in it. The blade is sharp and jagged. "This knife kills demons. You might want it."

I swallow hard and take out my Dad's old knife. "Here, then. Let's swap."

Sam Winchester takes the knife and turns it over in his hands, tracing the initials A.S.B on it. "A.S.B?"

"Yeah," I smile, but, I know that it doesn't show in my eyes. "Alexander Seth Ballard. My Dad's name. He had it with him everywhere he went."

He lightly runs his thumb along the edge and I see a tiny nick appear on his finger. "Wow. That's sharp." Sam frowns a bit and squints at the bottom of the handle. "What the..?"

"What?" I adopt a frown of my own and shake my head. "Sam?"

"I'll be right back." His voice is guarded but nervous. I don't think I'm going to like this.

Sam walks into Dean's room and I glare at the floor in confusion. "What?"

"Umm... Alex," Dean, Sam and Castiel come in, each wearing surprised expressions of their own. "Do you know what this is?" Dean holds up my knife and shows me the butt of the handle. There's a pentagram in swirls stamped on the bottom.

"Uh, yeah? That's a pentagram." I shrug and Dean blinks at me. "So?"

Sam licks his lower lip, his eyes narrowed slightly. "That's an anti-possession seal. A hunter's mark."

I feel all of the blood in my face leave. "_What?" _I _really_ don't think I like where this is going.

"Apparently," Dean hands Sam the knife. "hunting is in your blood, too. Because this is your Dad's knife, and only a hunter would have this symbol on something they own." Dean glances at the ceiling for a second. "OR a hunter's prodigy, but, it's more likely that an actual hunter would have this. Did your Grandfather own this?"

"No," I say, shaking my head. "it was specially made for my Dad. But," I sink onto the edge of the bed and stare at my hands. "wouldn't I have known that? I mean, Dad was an accountant, for cryin' out loud. He..." I sigh and ball my hands into fists. "He was killed leaving work late, but the police said none of his personal items were missing. He took care of me and my Mom. Mom was an ordinary woman. She loved to bake, and she was a devout Christian... They were just normal people." My eyes stare blankly at the diamond pattern on the grey and green rug. "I can't believe that he was a hunter."

"It is pretty crazy," Sam's hands turn the knife around again. "but, you wouldn't be the first person who didn't know for a long time what their Dad actually did."

"Cas?" I glare in thought, recalling what he had told me when we first met.

_"I just felt like I needed to be here, you know? I've walked past this church so many times and I see it every day, but today I felt like I had to come here. Even if I wanted to fight the pull, there's no way I could have succeeded. It's like fate brought me here... Guess that's pretty strange, hm?" _

_"No. You were called here for a purpose... Alex."_

_"How do you know my name?"_

_"I have known your name since you were born. My name is Castiel, and I am an angel of the Lord. You were brought here to serve a greater purpose..."_

"Is there _anything_ that I should know?" I'm cautious about asking.

Castiel walks awkwardly over to me and sits next to me. The angel's sapphire blue eyes fix on mine and he sighs deeply. "Alex, your father was a hunter. It's the truth."

"But," My jaw drops in disbelief. "did Mom know this? How could they have kept this from me?"

"No." Cas shakes his head firmly. "Your mother never knew. Your father was very careful to ensure that hunting never involved his family."

"You knew this?" I'm not angry, but, I am certainly confused and my incredulity certainly shifts my voice to a higher pitch.

Castiel stands up and puts his hands in his coat pockets. "As I said when I met you, I've known about you since you were born. Like Sam and Dean's parents, your parents were watched and guided. You have a special fate. I don't even know what it is, but, I do know that it involves Sam and Dean, and apparently," He clears his throat uncomfortably. "myself... I'm sorry. I..." The angel's face becomes apologetic and my heart softens a little. "I... should have told you."

With a deep sigh, I stand up and shake my head. "It's okay... I just..." I smile a little. Castiel really doesn't know all that much more than I do. "I'm going to need some time, you know?" There's not that much else to say. My Dad was a hunter and I never knew that. I can accept it, but, it will take a bit.

He nods slowly. "I... I think that is reasonable. I believe so, anyway." Cas looks at Dean and he nods approvingly.

"That's pretty normal," Dean confirms helpfully.

Dean and Cas begin talking amongst themselves, walking away, and Sam smiles sympathetically.

"I'll make sure to return it. I know how much it means to you." He holds my Dad's knife up and slides it into his pocket.

"Sam, I'm not going to lie. I'm scared."

"Well... You have all of my memories. You know how I feel every time I go on a hunt like this." He squeezes my hand. "You're going to be fine. I promise."

"Sam?" Dean calls from the other room.

"I'll be back."

I look down at my Converse sheepishly. I hope you're right, I think, Sam walks away to see Cas and Dean in the other room. "I'll meet you guys down at the Impala. I need some air." I holler into the other room.

"Be careful." Sam says, peering around the corner of the door.

The parking lot is dark and the air is chilly. My shoes make no sound on the pavement and I lean against the Impala carefully. With shaking hands, I attempt to light a cigarette.

"Ugh..." I cup my hand over my nose suddenly, dropping my lighter on the ground. It smells like rotten eggs...

Shit... Not eggs.

Sulfur.

_Demons._

"Psst..." A voice sends chills down my spine, and as I attempt to reach for my knife, I'm struck on the back of the head. "Don't try to fight it."

"Shit..." I slump down the side of the Impala, dropping my gun.

"Oh, my head..." I groan, opening my eyes. "Where am I?"

I smell sulfur and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I am entirely alert now and aware that my ankles and wrists are bound in uncomfortable, scratchy rope. People do this kind of thing for fun? I try to move my hands or legs. Nope, those are solid bindings.

"You're in the abandoned industrial complex, honey." A distinctly evil male voice says.

My eyes meet the black eyes of a twenty-something year old host body to a demon who just came around the corner of a stack of pallets. He laughs, which creeps me out. Demon renegades laughing is totally creepy, I decide. Especially one who's dressed like he's a wanna-be member of a screamo band, complete with bleached blonde hair, black nail polish and a wallet chain thick enough to be a Rotweiller's collar. That's kind of stereotypical.

I fidget and crane my neck back to see what I'm stuck on. Great. A steel support column. Being tied up and taped to a post by demon renegades is not only creepy, but, also quite worrisome. I don't think I'm going to get out of this any time soon. At least, not on my own.

"I'm sure the Winchesters will be here to try save you. But, they're going to fail. Because they're going to die, of course." He shrugs and pulls a gun out of his coat. "You are too, most likely. I don't think that even Dean Winchester could take on twenty eight of us."

I choose to say nothing, I simply stare at him for a moment and look around. I'm bound at the hands and ankles, as well as being taped to a metal post. That's not exactly a winning position to be in. There's a car parked about five feet away from me. While I'm forming attempting to form a plan, the demon grabs my hair and stares into my eyes with his black ones.

Black eyes. Low class demon trash, essentially, I remember Sam thinking at one point as he pulled one out with his demon-blood enhanced powers. Well, for low class trash, those eyes are terrifying.

"Don't get any smart ideas." I know the feeling of a gun on my skin well enough to know that he's got one jammed under my chin. "Because all I have to do is slip into that pretty body of yours and show you some of Hell's finest torture methods, that'd make you compliant."

Hah! I fight the urge to laugh. Yeah, right! After having Dean and Sam's memories of that, I don't think any of what you can show me will compare...

He tilts his blond head to the side and drags the muzzle of the gun down my jawline. "Or I could just shoot you. You wouldn't be going anywhere with a bullet in your leg." He chuckles dementedly. "Or your head."

"I can't very well go anywhere or do anything if I'm secured to a pole." I force my voice to be as cold as it can be and I stare into those cold, black eyes. Crowley wasn't creepy like this, for which, I decide if I live, I will thank him for.

"Exactly." He shoots a something behind me and I hear a sound like sand falling onto the ground. "Like I said. Don't get any ideas."

The scummy blonde demon walks away and I feel my heart beat fluttering. My chest hurts and I grimace, ducking my head into my chest. "Sam... Cas... Dean... Please, be careful." I say in a breath to myself, hoping Castiel's "residual psychic link" is still intact.

An hour passes and suddenly the blond demon comes over, yanks my head back violently and tapes my mouth shut before ripping the tape off my hands that was binding me to a post. He drags me across the floor to the car and quite literally throws me at it. The impact feels exactly how it sounds in movies, I think, feeling dizzy and in pain.

I'm pretty sure my shoulder dislocated, considering the awful popping sound and the faint worthy rush of pain I feel and I'm certainly going to have a concussion since my head left a dent in the door.

"You move, and I promise you, sweetheart, I will kill you faster than you can believe."

Yeah, right. Like I'm just going to sit here, I think, because that would be something Sam would do. I feel around on the underside of the car and find a sharp edge. I can't see what it is, but, I can feel it. I quietly rub the rope binding on it, thankful for my decent pain tolerance. I stop any time Blondie turns around to check on me. A few of his companions, dressed in black, show up and the sounds of gunshots grows closer. In a matter of seconds, twelve demons are all in the same area of the warehouse as Blondie and I.

"Dammit..." I hiss when I nick the edge of my hand off the metal. I'm glad I got my tetanus shot this year.

Winchesters, God bless you for coming to get me, but, please hurry up.

"What are you doing?" A red haired female demon demands, holding a knife at me. I shrug at her obnoxiously and she grabs my arm. My bindings are free on my hands, but, my ankles are still bound. "Kyle!"

Blondie, who I now know to be Kyle, spins around and shakes his head, emitting a guttural growl.

"I warned you, didn't I?" Blondie pins me with his murderous black eyes and levels a gun at me. The red headed demon slices my right thigh open viciously and I squeal in pain. She just laughs.

My blood oozes through the cut and turns my jeans black. The smell of iron makes my stomach churn.

At least the blade was sharp, I guess, gritting my teeth in pain. It's bleeding quite a bit, but, it doesn't seem too deep...

I see Sam and Dean round the corner, and I try to shout past the tape. Kyle turns around and all of the demons stop moving. I stop breathing, and I swear the entire room slows.

Dean... He's standing in the middle of the floor, streaked with blood from head to toe, like he'd used his entire body to fight. His left forearm glows, and in his hand is a grisly looking knife, that looks like a jawbone of some creature. The Mark of Cain and the First Blade, it registers in my head. Well, that makes sense. It's not like Cain could have made a blade out of anything else. In his other hand, he holds the angel blade, but, it's no longer shiny and silver, but is coated in blood.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Dean's voice is quiet and calm. Terrifying. The kind of voice that you would not want to hear in a dark alley. Or anywhere. Because it was the voice of a murderer.

Kyle giggles. "Wouldn't you?"

The safety clicks off on his gun and my eyes meet Sam's as the demons charge the brothers.

"I'm sorry," they say. My heart stops.

There's a bang and a flash and a white hot burning sensation blows through my shoulder that was not dislocated. I scream behind the tape and my face is splattered with blood.

My own blood.

I cry, feeling my blood spreading down my arm, back and chest, staining my clothes and the floor black and crimson.

The pain was still there, but, not as bad as I imagined it was. The agony only lasted for a few seconds, but, I'm left feeling my blood pumping out of two separate injuries.

Dean roars and the sounds of Sam's gun firing and people fighting forces me to focus despite the pain and the adrenaline flooding my system.

I watch in horror as Dean fights of a group of demons alone. He jams the first blade into the rib cage of one demon and up into his heart. The imagery was bad enough, with out the blood all over his face and a murderous rage in his eyes. As the dead demon drops to the floor, I see the angel blade enter the chest of another demon. While Dean fights off eleven demons, slicing and stabbing and maiming, dripping black and red blood all over the floor, Sam rushes Kyle and stabs him in the chest with the bone handled knife.

Kyle screams and his mouth, the wound and his eyes glow orange before slumping over dead. Dean jams the First Blade into throat of a demon and I feel like puking. Another demon meets a similar end, but with the blade impaling him in the torso and probably hitting his lung, as he coughs blood onto Dean's jacket. A dark, evil smile curls Dean's lips as he pulls the blade out of the demon and lets him drop. The other two that were still alive run, and Dean chases after them.

The worst thing about all of it is...

Is that... That he seems to be enjoying it...

Dean... I think, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. Why would you take the mark if it makes you like this?

"Oh Alex!" Sam's got blood on his face and his jacket. He removes the tape from my mouth and I instantaneously vomit all the contents of my stomach. Again. Luckily that's just water and a bit of stomach acid. "Here." Sam tears what seems to be his entire shirt sleeve off and then looks me in the eye. "This is going to hurt."

I say nothing, I just nod. He's a little blurry now- "SON OF A BITCH!" I shout, digging my nails into my palm. My right shoulder pops back into place with a jarring sensation and then a slight amount of relief.

"I had to, I'm sorry." Sam's voice is pained, as if hurting me had hurt him. "Oh, Alex..." He unbinds my ankles and peels my jacket off my shoulder. "Here..." He hands me a leather bracelet he had on his wrist. "You might wanna bite down on that."

I take it and bite down as hard as I think I can, which, judging by the fact that as soon as Sam dug the tip of my Dad's hunting knife into my shoulder I groan at the dizzying pain and locked my jaw down even tighter, was probably not that hard. Sam ties his sleeve around my thigh tightly. Sweat is pouring down my face when Dean rounds the corner. I take the bracelet and jam it, painfully, into my pocket. He's not right.

"Sam, is she alright?" Dean's voice is low, dark and sends chills through my whole body. For a second, I swear his eyes are almost black, but then they shine their normal green color, perhaps slightly darker than normal.

"No. She just got shot in the shoulder and she has a pretty nasty gash on her thigh where that jackass cut her. We need to get her to a hospital." He explains as he picks me up in his arms. I feel cold and dizzy.

"No hospitals." I manage to say, despite the certain concussion. "I'd rather bleed out."

Sam looks down at me. "Hey, hey, Alex. Alex?" I'm shaking a bit. "Wake up. No sleeping."

"I'm not sleeping, Sam!" My voice sounds kind of hollow in my ears.

"Here, let me take a look, Sammy." I hear Dean approach and I panic.

"NO! Sam!" I shake my head violently. "No!"

Sam's face is worried. "Alex? What's wrong?"

I glimpse Dean over Sam's shoulder, and it nearly breaks my heart to see him looking so betrayed and hurt. Like I just called him a monster. But, I'm afraid of him.

"No, Sam. No." My voice drops down to a whisper. "No. Don't let him near me. Please... Sam. I'm sorry..."

Sam's beautiful face is sad, but, he understands I'm afraid.

Dean calls for Castiel behind us and I hear in his voice that he's fighting anger and tears.

"Sam, we're going to the bunker." I hear Castiel's voice and attempt to focus on Sam's face.

"The Men of Letters' bunker?" I feel so groggy.

"Yeah. Just stay awake, okay?" Sam nods.

"Okay." I dig my nails into my hand. Hard. The pain helps me focus on staying awake.

Weird... That's not something I did before the psychic link...

"Take her jacket off, Sammy." Dean nods at me and Sam takes it off of me carefully. I exhale faintly in pain, tears stinging my eyes. I'm in pain and dizzy and tired, but I'm staying awake. I wonder if some of Sam and Dean's pain tolerance transferred to me. Or if I'm just naturally tolerant to being shot and cut...

Castiel pops into the main room in typical Castiel style holding a box of medical supplies and Sam hands me a bottle of Jack Daniels that I don't even notice him procure. Items clink and slam onto the table and Sam seats me in a chair up against the wall.

"Hey, guys, how about you take Baby and go get some food for us?" Dean's voice attracts my attention and he tosses Sam the keys.

"You sure?" Sam's eyebrow quirks upwards. Dean purses his lips and turns his eyes up at his brother. _Brrr... _I think. I would not want to be on the receiving end of that stare.

"Yeah, go. I'm starving." A bottle of rubbing alcohol is slammed onto the table.

"I'd drink now if I were you. This isn't going to be fun." His jaw twitches and I know he's worried. Sam gives my hand a light squeeze. I drink and attempt to fight the urge to vomit (again) or pass out as Cas and Sam leave. There are books in shelves along the walls and low hanging lights above the long wooden table. A set of curling stairs is traced by a ribbon of shiny black painted railing.

Sam was right. This isn't going to be fun. But, then again, neither was getting shot, thrown at a car or cut by a ginger demon bitch. I use my right arm to swig some of the liquor. It burns on it's way down, but, it numbs the pain. I can see why the boys drink so much, considering the multitude of injuries they have had in their life times. I watch Dean's face set into a hard grimace and he rolls his sleeves up.

That's when I notice how benign the Mark looks. Just a weird, reddish-pink little "f" shaped symbol with two dashes. But, I know that it glows a sinister red and illuminates his veins when it's active. It's not benign. It really isn't. I drink more and look at my injuries. The bleeding in my shoulder has stemmed to a slow, steady drip. I drink and decide not to look at my injuries, as they make me feel sick.

"Move your shirt." Dean glances over at me; his face is still cold. I don't know why, but him being upset with me rather makes me panic. You'd think I'd be more upset with the fact that I have a throbbing pain through my entire body and I'm dizzy from blood loss, but, no. Dean Winchester being upset with me makes me want to cry.

"Okay." I hold my bottle of alcohol with my knees and gingerly shift my shirt and my bra strap down my arm, attempting to move my shoulder as little as possible. There isn't an exit wound in my shoulder, I realize. Oh, this, I think, this will be _sooo_ much fun.

Dean comes over with a pair of scissors. I cringe, but, when his green eyes meet mine, I swallow hard and he beings cutting the left side of my shirt off from the neck to my ribs. I guess me moving my shirt wasn't good enough. I feel rather exposed with the majority of my left side being uncovered.

Well... It's covered. But, dried blood doesn't count as clothing.

The pain of the bullet in my shoulder is numbed by the liquor.

"So," Dean kneels next to me and dumps rubbing alcohol onto a swatch of gauze. "this might burn when it actually gets into the wound. But, better a clean injury that hurts than the alternative."

"Okay..." I shiver slightly when the cold gauze touches my skin and I watch Dean's face out of the corner of my eyes as he carefully wipes the dried blood from around the hole in my shoulder.

His clenched jaw relaxes and the frown that knotted his brow relaxes. For someone who is so deadly, he's surprisingly... Gentle. I can tell he's attempting not to hurt me. He has freckles... I never noticed that. He has freckles across his cheeks and nose. It lends a boyish charm to his expression. I smile faintly despite the fact that, as Dean had said it would, the alcohol burns inside my injury.

Dean's mouth is interesting. He has perfect lips and perfect teeth, which makes me wonder how, considering the many (_many_) times he's been punched in the face and all. I know Sam held onto memories of Dean laughing a lot when they were kids and when times were just bad. It helped him retain perspective on life and remember that life _can_ have good in it. I wish Dean knew how much he means to Sam. Combine his eyes with a genuine smile with those lips, and he's enough to cause cartoon-eqsue fainting.

And his eyes really are striking, too. They're so very green. Impossibly so. Like the color grass looks when the sun hits it in the Spring, or peridots. For someone who plays at being so casual and is so charming, his eyes speak so much more of him. They're haunted, yes. But, they're also determined. And worried, too. Worried and confused and hurt. They're also, when I study them carefully, hopeful, which is really telling about Dean's persona-

"OW!" I yelp when Dean digs something into my shoulder. "Son of a bitch, son of a bitch, son of a bitch, son of a bitch..." I feel the blood drain out of my face and I start shaking from the pain. My vision goes blotchy from staring at the lights, I think, though it could be from pain. "DAMNIT!"

"Hold STILL!" Dean presses one hand against my right collar bone, which effectively stills me except for my legs shaking. I know my face is scrunched up in pain and I whimper while he digs around in my wound. Blood wets my skin and I make pathetic little noises as tears drip out of the corner of my eyes.

"Got you, you little bastard." Dean growls and I hear a tiny plinking sound. "Hey, Alex. Look, this was lodged in your shoulder."

With an ugly sniffle, I wipe my eyes with the back of my right hand. In a small bowl with a couple drops of blood at the end of tweezers, there sits an unattractive, blood stained, mushroomed little ball of metal. I glare at the offending object and pick it up.

"What are you _doing_?" Dean asks as I roll the lump around in an already bloody swatch of gauze and stick it in my pocket.

"Keeping it..." I answer him. "I want something to remember my first failed hunt by."

He laughs bitterly. "I'm sure you have more than enough to remember it by, considering the scars you're going to have." His eyes shadow and he threads a needle. "And the memories..." Dean's voice drops very quiet. .

"Yeah..." My heart pings painfully. "About that... Can I say something?"

Dean just glances up at me from under his eyelashes and blinks slowly, which I take as a sign to talk.

"I..." My words catch in my throat and I try to control my shakiness. Dean's eyes meet mine and he sighs heavily, rolling his eyes and reaching up to brush my sweat-slicked hair off my forehead.

"Alex," His green eyes look tired but soft. "I have a pretty good feeling what you want to say, so how about you listen while I fix you up?" Those eyes narrow and he nods almost imperceptibly.

My memories- no, Dean's memories, flicker in my mind. I just nod and allow my eyes to watch him while he sticks the needle into my skin. I bear the pain with a clenched jaw and my hand gripping the edge of the chair.

"You don't understand how the Mark works. So, all you saw," the needle pulls my skin together and Dean licks his lower lip. "was me killing demons in a frenzy. Yes... With the Mark and the Blade are together, I am a murderer, I guess." I see the muscle along his jaw twitch and the needle pulls through my skin again.

"I'm cursed to remember every person that I have killed with them. Every face, every death." His voice cracks and he takes a deep breath, swigging some of the Jack Daniels. "I can feel the blood of every person I killed on my skin. But, the worst part of it all? Is that when I have the blade in my hand," My eyes drift to his left hand, which is clenched in a tight ball. "I enjoy it. It's like..." He runs his hand over his face and tears fill my eyes. Dean... Is crying. "I'm in a trance. I can't control it. I just... Keep killing." Dean looks away and I see him bite the inside of his cheek. "I'm afraid that some day I'm not going to stop and that I'll kill Sam or Cas, or you."

The lump in my throat prevents me from even talking and tears drop onto my skin.

"I don't think you can possibly understand how it feels to be looked at like a monster." Dean lets a shaky breath out and drinks more Jack. "Knowing that you were _terrified_ of me? That hurts more than the Mark's influence. I hate what I become, Alex. I really do. I hate what the Mark does to me. I..." He clears this throat and takes a deep breath. "I hate... that I like it. But, I took that on so that me and Sammy and Cas could save you." His piercing green eyes glint with tears that quickly drip down his cheeks. "I accepted the nightmares and the pain and the knowing that I can _never_ be rid of the memories. **For you." **

Dean Winchester's eyes settle on mine, shimmering. "Because family don't end in blood."

Dean's broken voice and his tears break my heart into an infinite amount of pieces and I slide off the chair, ignoring the raging pain in my shoulder, in my leg and in my heart. I hug him tightly with my good arm and he squeezes me, shaking. "Dean... _I'm so sorry._" My voice is a hoarse whisper and he sniffs hard. "_I'm the monster. Not you." _My broken heart beats far too fast, and my blurry eyes register his face in my mind as I pull back from him slightly. I swallow the knot in my throat and I lightly place a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you. For saving my life," I whisper, a shaky smile curls my lips as tears fall freely from my eyes. "Dean Winchester."

A knocking on my door startles me awake and I sit up, painfully reminded that I am not at home.

"Yeah?" I grip my knife under my pillow, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"Alex? It's Dean..." I hear him clear his throat. "Um... Can I come in?"

"Yeah." I roll over and click my light on, squinting. Dean is wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a plain, grey tee shirt. I ruffle my hair and squint at him. . "You're practically naked." I grumble, rubbing my eyes.

He looks down at himself and frowns. "Uh... You're kind of right." Dean laughs awkwardly. "This is weird."

"Dean," I look at my phone and whine. "It's 3:57 in the morning. What are you doing in my room?"

"D... D'you remember," He rubs his neck and shuffles, clearing his throat. "when I said I have nightmares?"

I nod blearily. "Uh-huh."

"Um... It helps me to have someone there, but, I mean, Sam and Cas are guys so that'd be kinda..." Dean trails off, looking incredibly vulnerable, and I stare at him.

"_Oh._" It hits me; what he means. "You want t-"

"Yeah."

Considering that I owe him my life, and I'm partially responsible for the nightmares that woke him up this time; I figure that him staying with me is no big deal.

"I'm cool with it." I yawn and situate my blankets again, carefully laying down again, avoiding my shoulder..

Dean slides under my blankets and I watch as he turns the light out.

"Hey Alex?"

I groan irritably. "Yes- Dean, what do you want?!" I turn my head to glare at him.

He props himself up on his elbow and smiles adorably at me. "Thank you," he says in a tiny, soft voice, placing a chaste kiss on my forehead before flopping onto his stomach, sliding one arm under the pillow.

"Don't thank me. That's my job." I say gruffly, trying to cover the fact that I might cry.

A light chuckle sounds from him and he yawns. "Okay."

"I'm serious," I mumble, laying on my right side, facing away from him as I start to drift off. "you can't thank me after I was terrible to you."

"I forgave you though," Dean points out.

"Go to _sleep _and don't thank me again or go sleep with Sam or Cas. Your choice."

"Oooh... _Alex's Mom voice_?!" Dean laughs at me and I growl back at him. "Okay, okay, I'm going to sleep. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Dean Winchester, I think as I start to fall asleep, brother, bearer of the Mark of Cain, prophesized as the Michael Sword, has been to Heaven, Hell and Purgatory...

And yet, he still sleeps better when he's not alone.

The _most_ human, human being...

I wake up when my phone buzzes softly next to me.

From: Sam, 08:44

Sorry if I woke up. Breakfast is ready.

-Sam-

With my right arm, I text back before glancing over at Dean.

He's sprawled out on his stomach, half twisted in the sheets, with his hair spiking messily and his shirt wrinkling up to reveal his lower back. His entire face looks relaxed, I note as I slide off the bed and gently tuck the blanket around him. I doubt he's slept this well in a while.

"Dean..." I chuckle under my breath and shut the door carefully behind me as I leave.

When I arrive in the study, I smell bacon, eggs and pepper. A bunch of food is spread out on the table and Sam is reading a news paper while Castiel spreads butter over his toast carefully.

"Good morning." I say with a smile, nearly causing Sam to fall over a chair in his haste to get up.

"Alex!" Sam's face lights up and hugs me tightly. "You're okay!"

"Ow, haha," I laugh, ignoring the fact that he's crushing my shoulder. "I'm fine, Sam!"

"You look..." Castiel frowns and then smiles (barely). "disheveled."

I yawn and pour myself some coffee from the pot on the table, stirring in cream and sugar before plopping down into a chair.

"Good morning to you, too, Castiel." I raise my mug at him and then take a sip, burning my mouth a bit.

"So," Sam sits down across from me. He leans forward on his elbows, eyes alight. "what ended up happening with Dean last night?"

My heart stops and I choke on my hot coffee, spluttering. Castiel throws a cloth napkin at me. "Um... What do you mean?" I ask, sopping the coffee I spit on myself up.

Sam rolls his eyes and sighs exaggeratedly. "Dean, Alex? My brother? You know him? He sent me and Castiel out and to get food. I can tell that he patched you up, but, you guys had to have talked."

"Sam," I reach out and rest my hand on his arm, attempting to hide my sarcastic smile. "you're as bad as a teenage girl."

He laughs heartily and I shake my head. "We just talked. Basically, we made up. Not a big deal." I smile and sip my coffee, watching as Sam studies my face. I hope my poker face is good.

"Mornin' guys."

I swallow my coffee and don't look at Dean. _Act natural_, I tell myself.

"Alex." Dean walks behind Sam and winks at me, heading toward the end of the table where the food is.

"Dean." I nod over my mug. I really don't want to seem obvious. But, obvious about what? It's not like anything happened. I don't have any reason to feel uncomfortable.

"Hey Dean. How'd you sleep?" Sam turns his attention to his brother and Castiel frowns slightly at me.

Dean's mouth curls up in a one sided smile and he laughs, piling bacon onto his plate. "I slept..." He eats a piece of bacon and pours himself coffee. "very well."

Sam sighs in relief. "Good." I can tell he worries about Dean a lot.

"So, what's the plan for the day?" Dean kicks his feet out on a chair and smiles a secret smile.

Sam, Sean and Cas.

They've taken care of me and they know everything about me. It still doesn't feel real.

Dean, who has been to Heaven, Hell and Purgatory. Dean who has the Mark of Cain and the hand print of an angel- marked by the father of murder and by an angel he considers family. Dean, who has killed demons, tortured souls, killed angels, loved angels and humans... Dean, who saved my life.

Castiel, the angel who introduced me to the Winchesters, knew my parents, knew about me and blended my mind with Sam and Dean's minds. Castiel, who was the gateway to me learning about things I couldn't possibly have imagined. The angel who fell in love with humanity.

Sam, who wanted to be a lawyer and left home for Stanford. Sam, who drank demon blood to increase his powers in the hope of defeating Lilith. Sam who was willing to die for his brother, Sam who lost his soul and got it back. Sam Winchester, the man who was supposed to be the vessel for Lucifer.

These are the men that I love, I realize, my cheeks blushing dark red.

I love Sam.

I love Cas.

And, I love Dean.

They are my family now,

Family don't end in blood, Dean told me.

And time doesn't make a family.

I love these three.

"Alex!" Dean calls me and a piece of bagel hits me in the face, causing me to spray my coffee all over the table.

The three of them howl with laughter, even Castiel, and I can't help but laugh myself.

"Oh, man! You should see your face!" Sam gasps for breath, wiping tears of merriment off his face while him and Dean imitate my expression.

Some things never change, I think, as Sam catches Dean off guard and stuffs a pancake in his face.

I certainly hope their smiles never do.

(Author's Note: Oh man! Is Alex falling for Dean?! I thought she and Sam were going somewhere...  
I guess you'll have to stay tuned and find out! Also, where has Cas been? Our favorite angel has been rather AWOL, hasn't he? Does he have anything to say or think about Alex?  
I hope that you guys liked this chapter! I worked really really hard on it, and I tried to make it a bit more action packed so I don't lose you guys in the monotony!  
I would like to throw a special shout out to buck.y and , two of my readers- without them, I could not have made this chapter happen! I appreciate your input so much, ladies. 3 You've got wings, for sure, because you two are angels!  
For those of you who have stuck with me this long- thank you so much. Your reading and commenting, be it here or on Instagram, means so much. I wouldn't have kept it going even this far if it weren't for you guys. So, thank you. I love you so much!)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

"It looks like it's healing up pretty nicely." Dean pokes and prods my shoulder in various places before he stands up and crosses his arms over his chest. "You _do_ realize that Cas could get rid of that scar like that?" He snaps his fingers at me. "All you'd have to do is ask."

"I know, Dean. But," I button up shirt so that it covers the scar again and smile, watching him open the Impala's trunk. "I need it. It's a reminder."

He rolls his eyes and snorts at me. "A reminder of what? That I can't sew?"

"Hey!" I can't help but laugh and Dean smiles. "I don't care how it looks."

Dean purses his lips and glances over at me impatiently. "Please. It looks like those mountains on a globe." He starts rooting around in Baby's trunk. "You know," Dean's hand waves at me, holding a sawed off shot gun. Self preservation compels me to reach out and take the gun away. "the ones that are all bumpy?"

"Dean, it's not that bad." I rub my thumb over the worn out shotgun aimlessly. -D.W- is carved into the side of the barrel and my finger traces over it incessantly. Dean is Dean. Dean is also demonic though... Dean.

"Liar." He pops up from digging in the trunk holding the same beat up, green Army issue duffel bag from my house and grins at me. The trunk slams and he walks away. "Come on. Let's go see if Sam wants to shoot with us."

"Ouch..." I laugh and listen while Dean continues telling me that my scar reminds him of a globe.

"Hold your elbows like this." Sam pushes my elbows in closer to my body a little bit and holds them there. "Now try it."

I take a deep breath and aim for the head of the paper target. _And squeeze_, I tell myself, exhaling and squeezing the trigger of the pistol at the same time. The recoil jerks my arms a little, but not as much as it had before Sam corrected my form. But, then again, it probably also helps that he held my arms stable.

"Hey," Dean hops over the railing, crosses the indoor range and yanks my target down, examining it as he returns and hands it to me. "not too shabby."

The bullet hole is a bit off to the right, but, still well within the silhoutte of a person on the target. "I'm getting better!"

"You really are." Dean's stomach grumbles and a boyish grin lights up his face.

I return his grin cheerfully and Sam laughs. "I've gotta go. I'm cooking lunch, so I have to go on a grocery run." His hazel eyes seem golden and green today.

"I'm going to stay. I have to talk to Dean." I nod and smile. "Grab me some ice cream, okay?"

"Alright." He squeezes my shoulder lightly and nods. "I'm glad you're okay, Alex."

"Me too, Sam. Me too." I smile at him and he head off towards the door.

"Um, Dean?" I jam my hands in my back pockets.

"Um, Alex?" He smirks and looks up from the phone. "What's up?"

"Where has Castiel been?"

All motion stops and I swear Dean is frozen, but, then he takes a huge breath and drops his phone onto the shooting bench. "I don't know." The worry in his voice is evident. Dean's bright green eyes are shadowed and dark. For a moment, I swear they flash black. "I haven't seen him since he brought us back from Colorado Springs."

I balk at that. "What?! That was nearly three weeks ago!"

"I know." He shakes his head and looks down the range. "I haven't been able to get a hold of him, either."

"You're not even getting anything on prayer channel?" My eyes widen and Dean shakes his head violently. "I don't like it." My stomach twists into an ugly knot. I don't like it. I don't like it at all, I think, spinning on the heel of my foot and facing away from him. I let my head drop and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. "Castiel, where are you? Please answer me? It's been weeks since we've seen you, and we're kind of worried."

"I already tri- _Holy crap!_"

I nearly fall over while turning around at Dean's exclaimation of shock. Castiel's face is as it always is. Calm, unruffled and a little oblivious. Dean, however, is comically angry and a little jealous.

"Cas, where the hell have you been? And why is it that when Alex calls, you show up now?"

Castiel blinks balefully and shrugs as he walks over to me. "I've been around."

"Way to be vague." I mutter darkly and Castiel frowns at me.

"I was eliminating a few loose ends." His blue eyes darken unhappily and flicker over my face. "Like the demons that Crowley sent to your house."

"M... My house?" I force myself to not shake by digging my fingernails into my palms. Focusing on the pain helps me, besides, I'm not a damsel in distress anymore. I'm a hunter.

"Yes." Cas' seemingly permanent frown grows deeper and he fiddles with his tie. "I don't know why he sent them there." His eyes take on a childish wideness. "I cleaned everything up, but, you're going to need a new coffee table."

"That's okay. Thanks Cas. I can get some answers." A humorless smile graces my face. I've been crossed. That doesn't set well with me. "Dean, can you get Sam for me?"

Dean nods. "Yeah."

"Good." I head for the door with a vengeance but am stopped by Castiel.

"Alex," his eyes glitter worriedly. "what are you doing?"

"What am I doing..." I laugh coldly and drag my hand through my hair. "Getting some answers, Cas." I yank the door open and stalk down the hallway. He tags along beside me and out of the corner of my eye I swear I see a faintly triangular shadow on the wall... Weird.

"How do you intend on getting answers?" His tone of voice makes me suspect that he knows.

I take a deep breath and pray for strength. "Well, it's not like Crowley is going to answer his phone for me. So, I'm going to do this the hunter's way."

"That's probably not wise. Alex." Castiel grabs my arm and pulls me to a stop. His lips form a hard line and his eyes glow a pale, white-blue for a moment. Probably the lighting, I think. "You should let Dean and Sam handle it."

"Cas," I glare up at him intently. "I'm a hunter. I may not be a good one, but, it's in my blood. I'm not afraid of Crowley. He was looking for something. I'm for damn sure going to find out what that something is."

Castiel's eyes bounce from my hand to my eyes and he exhales slowly. "I will do what I can to help you." My hand drops back to my side as he disappears in a blink and so do the shadows and I keep walking.

I'm going to summon a demon.

"Not just any demon," I remind myself in a whisper. "I'm going to summon the King of Hell."

"You do realize," Sam finishes lighting candles and looks at me seriously. "you're going to have to bleed into the bowl?" He nods at said bowl.

I tap the side of my head. "Yeah, I know." Dean throws the last few pieces of herbs into said bowl and I take a deep breath.

"Alex, you don't have to do this."

"Actually, Dean..." I pull my Dad's hunting knife out of my pocket and sigh. "I really do." I stare at the edge of the blade for a second before dragging it along my palm. "_Et ad congregandum, eos coram me..._" I watch my blood drop onto the herbs and Dean tosses a match into it, bursting it into a fire.

"Well, well. Alex. Fancy meeting you here, in the Winchester dungeon."

I hear Crowley's voice and find myself instantly irritated. _Is that what Dean meant by demons giving normal people bad vibes? _"I'd have a seat, if I were you, Mr. Crowley." I wrap my hand in a bandana that Dean gave me before I did the ritual and turn around.

Sam slams Crowley into the chair in the center of the demon trap on the floor and straps him down.

"Not feeling hospitable, are we Moose?" The demon smiles at Sam.

Sam's hatred for Crowley is practically palpable as he secures Crowley to the chair and steps out of the Devil's Trap. He wheels a steel cart over towards the center of it for me.

"Clearly not. Squirrel, are you going to stay for the party?" The King of Hell smiles annoyingly at Dean, who smiles back. It's not a smile that I'd want to be on the receiving end of.

"Nope. Alex's show, not mine. As much as I'd love to break your neck, I'm not allowed to right now. Alex," I look over my shoulder at Dean and he jerks his head towards the door. "a word."

I nod at Crowley, barely managing not to smile. "Stay put."

"So clever..." I listen to Crowley mumble while I walk away. As soon as we're in the hallway outside the dungeon, Dean yanks me into a hug and squeezes me.

"Listen to me carefully, okay?" Dean Winchester pulls away from me just far enough to look at my face. "Don't let him get to you. He's not to be trusted. You remember that, okay?" His jaw sets in a hard, serious line and he cups his hands around my face, the cold expression softening slightly. "You remember that. And call me if you need me."

"O-okay." I blink rapidly and Dean nods before pressing a kiss to my cheek and walking away. _How uncharacteristically affectionate... But now isn't the time to think about that. _To clear my head and clear it fast, I squeeze my thumb into my cut hand.

_Dean can't know that I'm seeing Lucifer all over... Just focus on something else. He's not real. He's in the cage, remember? You're not in there. He's just a hallucination. Focus. You're okay. _

Sam's voice, or rather a memory of him thinking that, passes through my mind and is gone in an instant when I squeeze my hand again. Gotta stay focused. A strangely renewed sense of determination fills my chest. With that, I make my way back into the demon dungeon and sit down in a chair across from Crowley, right next to the cart.

"Listen, Crowley," I lace my fingers together on my lap and stare at the demon before me. "at the risk of sounding like a cliched movie, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It's your choice."

He smiles and turns his head to the side a bit, trying to shift the strange collar on his neck. I notice devil's traps are carved into the material. "You're bluffing, sweetheart."

"Am I now?" I wear my poker face as well as a professional hustler and stare at the demon before me.

"You are." Suddenly his face flickers and I nearly fall out of my chair in shock. "Most definitely bluffing."

I'm not bluffing at all, I want to say as I stand up from my chair and nudge it out of the way.

"Hard way it is." I pick up a gallon of holy water and drench my father's hunting knife in it. "I don't think I know what I'm doing here, exactly, but," I walk over to him and press the knife's tip to his shoulder. "I'm a writer. I can improvise." I dig into his shoulder and twist a bit, watching as he hisses angrily and seeing smoke rise from the wound. "Answer my questions and I promise to make this as painless as possible."

"Little Alex," Crowley twitches his neck again and grimaces. "I didn't think you had it in you. Torture is so very Winchester."

"Yeah, well." I shrug widely and sigh. "When you consider that I have their memories and thoughts and emotions rolling through my brain 24-7, dreaming their dreams..." My hand tightens around the leather coated handle of the hunting knife and I yank it out of his shoulder, causing him to groan in pain. "That makes me as much of a Winchester as they are Ballards."

Crowley's eyes narrow and he studies me intently. "Alexandra Ballard." He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. You've changed since last we met."

"What are you talking about?" His face flickers again and my eyes widen. Red eyes and a face of rotting skin and muscle, worn away with pieces of greying bone beneath sears into my mind. I shiver.

"There you have it." Crowley's normal face smiles, the horrific image from before doesn't come back. "Not just any human can see my actual self. That's something only angels can do."

My stomach drops to my toes. "How did you know?"

He rolls his eyes and thrusts his wrists out. "Take the cuffs and this damned collar off, refrain from attempting to torture information out of me and I'll tell you."

"No."

The word surprises us both, considering that it's said in Castiel's voice.

"Cas?" My heart decides to fly into my throat. "What are you doing here?"

Crowley disappears, leaving the manacles and collar clanking to the ground.

The angel suddenly pins me against the wall and I blink as stars explode behind my eyes.

"What is wrong with you?" I take a huge gulp of air and it helps clear my vision up. Castiel is wearing a deadly glare.

"You can see my wings." My entire body goes cold and I just stare at him blankly. "Can't you?" The tone in his voice sends chills down my spine. In that moment, the gigantic black and grey wings unfold and twitch in annoyance. I nod once and stare at them as the refold. They're really quite beautiful, even though they're fairly broken. The feathers that are still there are blacker the closer they get to his shoulders, but all of his wings are very darkly colored. "That's not possible."

"Castiel, please, you're hurting me." I cringe and wiggle in his grip.

He lets me go and I stand against the wall shaking. "_How _is this possible?"

"You're asking me?" I rub my arms where he was holding them in a vice grip. He nods. "I don't know!"

"What else do you see?"

Castiel seems urgent, but I cross my arms over my chest. "I'm not telling you until you bring Crowley back."

"No." Cas' normally soft spoken demeanor is lost somewhere within him. Angel of the Lord, I remember. Not a Cherub, a soldier. It would stand to reason that he could be pretty friggen' intimidating. "You're going to talk. And you're going to talk now."

In a blink, I find myself on top of my apartment's rooftop. "Talk."

"Castiel, what the hell..." I feel my heart flutter from anxiety. "What's going on?"

"What else can you see, Alexandra?" Castiel's wings unfold and spread, I watch as a feather falls out and I frown.

"Well," I walk over and pick it up. It's warm, as long as my hand and fills it with a strange tingling feeling. "I can see that you just lost this." Cas' wings retract back towards his body and he frowns, cradling it against his body protectively. I sigh and slide the feather into my pocket. "I can see a lot. I haven't said anything, but, ever since the memory thing..." I glare at my hands and flex them. "I feel different. I can see things. Crowley, for example. His face," I wave my hand in front of my face. "it uh... Cas, please, stop glaring at me. First you slam me against a wall and act like you're going to kill me, and now you're glaring."

"What?" He looks perplexed and I walk over and shove his cheeks up in a forced smile.

"Stop frowning all the time. You look constipated." I turn around as he rubs his face and lean my arms on the roof's wall, rubbing my forehead. "Crowley's face flickered. For a second or two, I could see the demon, instead of the shell."

"You saw his true self."

"Oh, Cas," I look over at him and shake my head. "it was _awful._" I can't help but stare at his wings. "Can I ask you something?"

"Can it wait until we're done with this conversation?" Castiel's voice reminds me of when I first met him, all halted and anxious.

"Sure. I guess you'll want to know that... Um..." I know tha the cares for Dean a lot. "I think I saw Dean's eyes turn black today."

Cas sighs and drops his head to his chest. "I had a feeling that you'd say that." He groans and looks back at me. "Can I see?"

"I wish I could show y-" Castiel is staring at me balefully. "Oh. Oh, right." I nod and turn to face him. "Sure."

Cas' hands cup my cheeks lightly. "Do you mind if I do this a different way?"

My eyebrow quirks and I frown. "What do you mean?" His hands are warm against my skin and I feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Well," Cas shifts his weight back and forth on his feet and sighs. "in order for me to access your mind, I need contact. I could just force my way into your mind, as I had to in order to create the link that allowed you, Sam, Dean and I to connect, but, there is an easier way."

"Uh... Okay?" I laugh and shake my head uncomfortably. "I don't really see any other way for..."

Cas leans in and silences me with a kiss. It's not any kind of passionate or loving kiss, simply a kiss, but, before I can react any particular way, he pulls away and frowns. "You didn't _think_ that you saw Dean's eyes turn black. They actually did." The worry and fear for Dean's condition is practically palpable from the angel. "The Mark is taking a deeper hold."

"You kissed me." My entire face heats up and I know I'm tomato red.

Castiel frowns and blinks passively. "I did say I had a less painful way than sticking my hand in your head."

"I'm just going to pretend that that didn't happen." I shake my head and frantically rub my eyes.

"That's fine. But, we need to finish talking. You said you feel different?" I'm not sure whether to be hurt or not by how casually he brushes aside the fact that I want to ignore his kiss.

"Yeah." I swallow in an attempt to help my dry throat. "I... Feel like me, but, when I sleep, I dream dreams that aren't mine. I dream memories. Sam's, Dean's," I wave my hand at him and shake my head. "sometimes yours. I don't feel like I'm normal me anymore. I feel," I roll my shoulders and frown. "aggravated more often. More aggressive. But, also calmer, too. I'm not afraid of things I used to fear. " I laugh and look up at the overcast sky. "_Man _is this weird! I've had my mind blended with three other people's, I've taken a bullet wound and met the King of Hell and an angel!" I stare at Cas blankly and shake my head. "I'm still not over it."

"I know." Castiel slides his hands in his pockets and tilts his head to the side. "You had a question for me?"

My eyes widen. "I can ask now?"

"Yes." The angel bobs his head in approval.

"Mkay. Can I touch your wings?" I know a childish grin lights up my face.

"Why?"

"Are you kidding me? Because, Cas," I look around his shoulder at them. "they're beautiful."

He shakes his head and sighs sadly. "Not really."

I ignore his statement and step closer to him. Cas watches me nervously as I look them up and down. Slowly, he stretches one wing out a little. I reach out and touching the edge of his wing. He flinches. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. It just feels..." He pauses for a moment and swallows hard. "Odd."

"Odd?" I stroke the feathers lightly. Some are torn and injured. They make my fingers feel funny, like a constant stream of static electricity is running through my arm. A humming feeling, much like I felt when I was drawn to the church.

"Yes." Cas shakes his head a bit. "Tingling."

"Weird. I feel that, too." I drop my hand away and smile. "Thank you. And your wings are beautiful, Cas. Even if they're not perfect. To someone without wings, even broken wings are beautiful."

"You're welcome." He blushes ever so lightly and holds his hand out. "We should get back."

"Agreed." I go to take his hand but hesitate. "But, please. Don't tell Dean any of this. Just tell him I had to pick something up from my house."

"Okay."

I take Cas' hand and find myself back in the Men of Letters' bunker again. "And Cas?"

"Yes?"

I smile and gesture at the spot where Crowley was. "Bring him back, please?"

Cas disappears and a few seconds later, dramatic sigh rings from the center of the room.

"Having your angel bring me back is not fair play."

"He's not my angel." I glare at the little man strapped down to the chair in the center of a Devil's Trap and cross my arms over my chest. "So, Crowley. Welcome back."

"I would thank you, but it's not really welcoming if you don't want to be somewhere." He smiles at me and I watch his eyes flicker from hazel to red.

"Spare me." I roll my eyes and sigh, picking up my knife and stepping inside the pentagram. I put a quick cut on his cheek and he glares at me. "My patience is limited. Don't taunt me, don't avoid or deflect my questions and don't do anything other than answer my questions."

"Alex, you don't want to make an enemy of me." His voice is low and sing-songy.

"Or what?" I nod and twirl the knife in my fingers. "There's not much you can do to me other than kill me when you get out."

"I'll kill you, surely." Crowley's blood drips down his cheek. "But, I'll do it so slowly that you'll wish you were never alive in the first place. King of Hell, love. Torture is my specialty."

"Crowley, Crowley, Crowley." My blood boils and my patience evaporates. "I'll ask you one time. What were you sending demons to my house for?"

He grins broadly and then sneers, spitting on the floor. "For a party."

I take a deep breath and shake my head. "Wrong answer." I turn around and grab Duct Tape and a syringe of holy water. I wrap his wrists down to the chair, and ensure the chains are tight.

"Oh, tape. Scary." Crowley taunts me and I grin with no humor and tape his mouth shut firmly.

"You'll wish it was just tape and a knife." With no further ado, I find a vein in his arm and inject the needle, pumping holy water into his blood. The water sears through his skin and veins, leaving a deep, steaming, bloody hole in his flesh. The demon shouts behind the tape and after the wound on his arm stops spitting blood everywhere and steaming, I rip the tape off Crowley's mouth. "You ready to talk now?"

"Oh, if the Winchesters could see you now."

I click my tongue and retape his mouth. "Smart mouth. That's not the right answer."

I stab the knife into his shoulder and let it sit there before splashing holy water on him. As I walk away, Crowley's muffled screams burning into my consciousness. I slam the door behind me and slide down the wall in the hallway, tears streaming down my face. I hear footsteps and quickly wipe my eyes on my sleeve as the Winchesters and Cas round the corner.

"I'm fine, before any of you ask. I'm fine." I hold my hand out to prevent them from coming near me, looking away from them. I take a deep, shaky breath. "I just..."

A cold metal object is shoved into my hand by Dean, who looks at me with tears in his eyes and a cold expression before walking off. Sam's eyes are watering too and he gives me a heart breaking look and following Dean. Castiel stands before me with a somber look on his face. I realize that Dean gave me his flask and I unscrew the cap and drink a decent amount from it.

"Are you sure you can do this, Alex?"

"I'm fine, Cas." I stuff the flask inside my back pocket and nod. Castiel's wings drop a little and he sighs before he disappears. "I'm fine," I say, staring at the blood on my shirt and arms. "I'm fine."

I walk back inside the demon dungeon and smile at Crowley as I rip the knife out of his shoulder violently and wipe the blood and bits of tissue off on his suit.

"Shall we continue?"

Some hours later, I walk shakily into the main room and straight up to Sam, who immediately wraps me in a hug.

"They were scouts, they were supposed to get me, but they didn't know we were here instead. He wanted to kill me so I couldn't help you. Crowley killed my Dad." I look up at Sam and feeling wobbly. "I feel so numb."

"Alex." Sam's voice is soft and he shakes his head, folding me into another hug before I slide out and drop myself into a chair. "Bad idea." He stands me from the chair but my legs don't work. "Cas, help me. We've got to get her to Dean. He'll know what to do."

I know that Sam piucks me off the floor and carries me down the halls but I can't tell where we're going. Castiel opens a door, which I recognize to be Dean's room by the decorations, and also by Dean laying on his bed with headphones on.

"Son of a bitch." Dean stands up and takes me from Sam, setting me on the edge of his bed and wrapping me in a worn out, green wool blanket. I blankly pull it tighter around my arms. "I've got her Sammy. You guys go. Get some food and milkshakes from somewhere. Greasy food." My eyes lose focus while I stare at the floor until Dean kneels in front of me and holds my face in his hands.

"Okay. Alex, listen to me. You're covered in blood, holy water and God only knows what else."

"I know." I say, still feeling hollow and numb. My eyes stare at my open hands and bare arms, streaked with dried blood. Blood is caked under my nails, staining them a rusty brown.

"Okay. So you can talk. Good." He exhales in relief and nods. "Can you feel anything?"

I shift my eyes to focus on his face and stare at his grass green eyes intently. After a few seconds they flicker black. _Dean... Don't you realize that the Mark is changing you? _Is what I want to say, but, I shake my head."Not really."

"Well, that's normal. Trust me." I open my mouth to speak but something inside my head snaps it shut. Trusting Dean might be the death of me. "But, we have to get you out of these clothes and get you cleaned up, okay?"

"I know."

"I'm okay." I press my toes to the floor and attempt to stand. Shockingly enough, my legs support my weight. "I just don't wanna be alone."

"Alright. Well," Dean looks me up and down. "you can't get dressed back into those clothes."

"No," I look at my bloody clothes and realize there are bits of fabric and skin and muscle tissue clinging to it, as well as spots where the holy water burned through Crowley's blood on my pants. "I suppose not."

"Here," Dean pulls his hand gun out of a drawer and hands it to me. "I'll go get some of your clothes for you."

"Dean?" His green eyes stare into mine. "I'm worried about you." My heart flutters anxiously.

Dean turns away from me and he rests his hand on the door knob for a moment before he glances over his shoulder slightly. "I know."

"I love you." I say calmly, staring at the floor. I have to know if it's true...

"Hey," Dean stands in front of me and itches the Mark on his arm. "I love you too, Alex." He frowns at me. "You're a good friend. First one who's been inside my head, too."

A laugh slips through my lips and I hug him, looping my arms around his neck. "Can I say something?"

"Yeah." Dean's heart beat is soft in his chest, but I feel it. _Human through and through. _He pulls back and looks at me seriously. "Always."

I reach up and touch his cheek. "I'll always be here for you and Sam. Always. And Cas, too."

Dean's throat bobs and he smiles, holding my face in his hands. His eyes water, much to my surprise.

"I love you, too, Alex. But, don't say always. Because the hunter's life isn't one I want for you. When this is all over, I want to see you get back to your life."

"Seems like fate has other plans, my friend." I say quietly, looking down at the ground between us.

"Doesn't it always?" Dean squeezes me in a tight hug and smiles. "Well, you seem okay enough to walk. Do you want to go to your room instead?"

I nod. "Yeah... That sounds like a plan."

We walk in silence to my room, which, thankfully, is only a few hall ways away.

"I'll be here." Dean says, flopping backwards onto my bed while I grab clean clothes out of my dresser.

"Okay." I shut myself in the bathroom and frantically strip my clothes off, throwing them on the floor in a ball. I start running hot water and step in. The water scalds my skin and I dump half my bottle of Old Spice body wash onto my body, scrubbing my skin until it stings. My skin burns when I rub a towel over it and pull my sweat pants on. I ruffle my hair with a towel and pull my super soft blue hoodie on. "Okay..."

I'm so far from okay.

_"I could lie to you and tell you that I sent the demons to your house to obtain your clothing for a vacation." Crowley spits a glob of blood out on the ground, which is already stained in his blood. "But, the truth is, I sent them there to kill you." His eyes flicker like a broken television between red and hazel. _

_"Why?" I carefully pull the needle out of the demon's neck, avoiding pressing the plunger of the syringe. _

_"Because Dean Winchester needs you." The King of Hell rolls his eyes and snorts. "As if your angel didn't tell you."_

_"He's not my angel, Crowley. And no, he didn't tell me. So, you're going to." I gesture at his eyeball with the syringe full of holy water and acid. "Or else I'm going to jam this so far into your eyeball that it will melt your brain."_

_He smiles sardonically. "In order for the Mark of Cain to be purged from the bearer without it being passed on? Dean will have to lose the one he loves most."_

_A heavy frown darkens my face and I fight the anxiety of the feeling of being choked by my emotions. "Dean doesn't love me. And if he did, I would hardly say most."_

_"It's fated, Alex. You're going to die. By your own hand." Crowley almost seems sad. "And if your soul comes to me, you best believe you're going to wish you were never born."_

I'm going to die. I force myself to smile in the mirror, because if I don't, I'll cry. And I've cried enough. If I'm to die to save Dean, that's a good reason to die. I'm okay with it. It has to be by my hand, Crowley said... That's a scary thought. I don't know how to kill myself.

"Dean?" I poke my head out the door and hear nothing. He said he'd wait for me... Which means he left for some reason that I won't like, I think, grabbing my knife, which has seen much use now, before closing my door. I feel my pulse crashing through every point in my body as I walk, barefoot, down the hall way to the main study near the entrance to the bunker. I hear Castiel's voice and Sam's voice, too. Dean is either not there, or not talking.

"She doesn't know?" Sam sounds pained and worried.

"No. I didn't tell her. But, we can't change fate," Castiel says to Sam. "or else Dean will die."

"Who cares?" I hear Dean pipe up and I slide knife into it's sheath and slip it up my sleeve. "I'm not worth saving."

A rough sounding thud is followed by a crunching sound. I dare to peek around the wall and see Cas clutching Dean by the collar, pinning him to one of the collumns in the room. "You _are_ worth saving. Saying or believing otherwise is a disgrace and dishonors every single person who has died to save you."

"Maybe, but, you know what, Cas? They shouldn't have had to die for me either." Dean's voice is rough and pained. "Not Bobby, not you, not Sam, not Ellen and Jo, or Kevin or my parents."

"Cas, let him go." I speak without meaning to and slide down the railing, landing with a light thud on my feet. "I already know."

"Dammit..." Sam shakes his head and looks away. "I knew you were there."

Cas lets Dean go, who glares at me. "You didn't need to overhear that."

I shrug and slide my hands into my hoodie pocket. "I already knew. A little tid-bit that Crowley told me, with some coaxing." Castiel cringes and Dean just looks sad. Sam's hair falls in his eyes and he doesn't look at me. "All I want to know is... How long did you all know?" For a few moments, the only thing I can hear is my heart beat. "How long did you know I was going to die?"

Sam clears his throat and I see tears well in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks slowly. "We didn't know until now."

"Alex." Dean's voice brings my heart to a crashing stop and I look up to find his face quivering, tears streaming down his cheeks and onto the floor. "We'll find a different way."

"There is no other way to get rid of the Mark, Dean." Castiel's voice is soft and low. The two of them begin arguing and I walk over to Dean, smiling up into his bloodshot, tear filled green eyes and nodding.

"You are _so_ worth saving, Dean Winchester." I whisper, standing on my tip toes to kiss him as I slide the knife out of my sleeve and drop the sheath. I hear Sam shout and I take a deep breath before I jam the knife into my abdomen.

"ALEX NO!" Dean and Sam scream.

With an agonized gasp I pull the knife out and drop it. Dean screams again, holding me to his chest and lowering me to the ground, rocking back and forth. His hands are slick with my blood, trying to put pressure on my wound. I watch as the Mark slides off Dean's arm, down his fingers and into my blood, dissolving in a sulfur-scented puff of black smoke.

"Alex, Alex, oh God, no..." Dean's sobs shake my body. "Cas, please, do something!"

"Dean, there's nothing I can do. This is her choice, and the Mark left because it knew that. If I save her, there's no telling what would happen."

"Don't you dare... Don't you dare say that. You help her, you son of a bitch..." Dean's voice breaks in a croaking sound.

"He's right, Dean. This is my choice," I say quietly, ignoring the pain of my blood leaving the stab wound in my abdomen. I whimper in pain and start to cry. "please, don't blame him." I reach up and touch his face, trying to smile, despite the fact that I'm dying. "I love you, Dean. Whatcha cryin' for?"

A heart wrenching expression of agony, horror and broken heartedness contorts Dean's handsome, tear stained face into a grimace and he lets out a weak, broken laugh. His tears splash down my neck and shirt. Ever so gently, he cups my cheek. "Why do the people I love always die?" His voice is cracked and barely audible.

I cough and taste blood. Blood, everywhere... I remember Dean and Sam's memories. So much blood... "Because we love you." I groan and squeeze my eyes shut. "Cas, please... Can you make it stop hurting?"

"I... I can." He holds his hands over my stomach and all of the pain leaves me.

I smile up at the beautiful blue eyed angel. "Thanks, Castiel."

"You're welcome." He whispers, backing away from me and disappearing in a woosh.

"Sam?" I look over blearily at the tall Winchester and he kneels beside me, wearing the same heart broken expression as his brother. "Take care of your brother, okay?"

Sam nods and I smile at Dean. A strange euphoria creeps through my veins.

"I love you." Dean says boldly and with no hesitation, wiping my blood off my face.

It's getting harder to breathe and my vision blurs. A weight presses in my chest. "I know, Dean. I know."

Dean can't respond because he's crying. He leans down and presses a kiss to my lips. I taste tears. "I blame myself." He sniffs hard and kisses me again, gently. "It's all my fault."

"See you again, someday?" My heart feels so slow and I can't feel my limbs.

"Someday..." I can't hear him anymore and the last thing I see are his beautiful green eyes.

**One Year Later/Dean's POV:**

"Hey, Alex..." I kneel down at her grave. We gave her a hunter's funeral, but, Sammy figured it'd be only right to mark her grave. We buried her right next to our grandfather, Henry. "It's been a while." I reach in my pocket and bring out my flask and a crumpled piece of paper. "Sammy and Cas said they'd come see you as soon as he can, but, they didn't want to visit _with_ me." I tip my head up at the overcast sky and try not to cry. "You'll have to bear with me. You know I was never good at sayin' these kinds of things."

I drink from my flask and set it down, uncrumpling the piece of paper.

"I wrote it all down, so I didn't forget." Tears brew in my eyes and splash on the paper. "Dammit..." I clear my throat. "Okay. Here we go." A deep breath fills my lungs. "I miss you a lot, and I wonder what you're up to upstairs. I hope Heaven is everything it should be for you. Sometimes I wonder if Cas visits you. I wish..." I stop to take another drink and wipe my eyes on the backs of my hands. "I wish... I could see you. Sometimes when I'm asleep... I end up dreaming your memories. I guess most people'd be upset by that. I feel like you're still with me. I wonder if Sammy dreams like that sometimes, but, I don't wanna ask him."

I sigh and crumple the paper up, shoving it back into my pocket and brushing tears off my face. "I miss you, Alex, all the damn time. It hurts a lot. Part of me?" I laugh harshly. "Part of me wants to be angry at you. For leaving. For dying for me. Hell, even for getting involved in the first place. But, I can't. Because the months that I spent with you were some of the happiest times of my life." I don't bother fighting the tears that run down my cheeks now as I pour a drink out ceremonially.

"I love you Alex. See you again, someday." As I raise my flask and walk away, the sun brightens the world, and I look over my shoulder as I get in the Impala.

For just a second, I swear I see her smiling by the plain, wooden cross that marks her grave.

See you again.

Someday.


End file.
